Mirage Island Vacation
by Meridian Diamond
Summary: Of crazy old assholes who can turn back time, female relatives who nearly get raped, seventeen-year-olds who've got a fetish for a girl who dresses up as a guy, even crazier cousins, several cameos, Harry Potter references, a floating island, too overprotective uncles and one hell of a weird story to tell. Yellow gets stuck in a banished Island! Oh noes! The image is not mine
1. Prologue

**MIRAGE ISLAND VACATION**

Summary: Yellow's on a trip to Hoenn through her Uncle's boat trip! Isn't that sweet of him? But what if they crashed and were lost in Pacifidlog's sky tower?

Yellow scavenges for food, leaving Uncle Wilton and Gold fixing the boat. But what did she find when she was scavenging? The old hermit.

"Leave this place at once, young lady!" he called out to her, his pointing finger trembling with fear as his misty eyes stared into her brown-amber ones.

"W-what?"

"M-Mirage Island. . . approaches. . . ! . . . f-from the. . . foggy mist. . . And will rise once again!"

This fanfiction was inspired by a book. Well, here's a hint to what Yellow will find when she gets to Mirage Island; there are no girls (BOO!), but she gets a cute roommate who's got the same tastes she does. But _girls_ in the island are only used to make _kids_, boy kids preferably, and will toss them back to Pacifidlog with their memories erased. Man, when did I become so aggressive to my own gender? No _girls_? Er, rated **T**, I think, with some **M**'s. So, you've gotta be around 15 to read this. And, er, Yellow and Gold are cousins here, so be warned, because there's some kind of cousin sweetness between them. . . I apologize, because Yellow's a bit angst-ridden here. FIRST EVER STORY! Hope you like it, or review, at least! Inspired by a book, which title name is beyond my knowledge. :D

Prologue

It was a beautiful day in the City of Viridian. The folks were wearing smiles on their faces whenever they meet each other; everybody had their place of peace in this city. The men were working for their families, their wives were cleaning the houses and taking care of their children, and the children were always playing inside the forest, eventually getting lost, but will find their way back with the help of the pokémon there. The teenagers? What good would _they_ do in this sort of place? All except for someone like Amarillo?

This is where our story begins in the house where a fisherman, along with his niece and nephew, lives.

A young lady of age fifteen sprawled on her bed lazily, sleeping like a day-old baby. The electric fan at the side of her room's blades continuously spun, circulating around the caged appliance with its speed turned up to 2. The whole bedroom was ambiguously small, although it resides many things. Literally. The girl sprawled on the bed snoring away didn't take notice of that all since last night, although it was _her _room. People always thought that she was a strange one, but she just smiles whenever they say so, and says, "Thank you". Strange, indeed, but in a good way.

Their house wasn't big, but it wasn't small either, it's just simple; like her. But how come she's still attained this simplicity? No one knows but herself and, she's trusted him once before and can't bother to trust him again (although he's pretty disloyal), her cousin. It had something to do with taste buds. . .

She moved jerkily in her sleep, knocking down every stuffed pokémon she's had on her bed beside her. Her hair was a bit messy, excluding the fact that she _was_ asleep, she had tried to calm her bouncy bangs by tying her hair into a ponytail but they just keep bouncing from each other. She didn't mind at all, but they were a whole lot calmer when she was eight. . . Her cousin, however, envies her style of hair. He said something about "the newest trend" or "hit style" once before and couldn't believe that his cousin had followed it. So he tried to imitate it and his fringe had always looked exploded ever since.

Her forehead had creased a bit when she muttered in her sleep, making gestures and such, and hugged her pillow. The door to her bedroom opened slowly, creaking loudly.

_Dumb ol' door_, Yellow's cousin thought sourly, clicking the door knob in a fierce and savage way. He put that aside, and pushed the door slightly one more time and it creaked- silently, which was a relief to Gold. He took a deep breath, his stomach expanding, and he slid past the door and closed it gently, and the door snapped.

Gold thought it was the end of him for sure, but Yellow just sniffled and went back to sleep. Gold grinned a smirk worthy of a devil. He crept in tiptoe to her bed, snickering like a mad hyena. When he reached her bed, he raised an eyebrow. He doesn't get it. She's blonde, and _he's _got black, pure black, hair. And they're_ supposed _to be _related_ somehow!

He drew his breath, making it seem like he was breathing deeply, and was about to shout, rising to his feet, but Yellow moved jerkily again and her foot aimed a kick for Gold's-

"_**HOLY CRAP**_!"

Yellow woke up with a start, breathing fast, her eyes still glistening with tears because she just woke up. Gold whimpered in pain, kneeling at the floor, squeezing the middle of his shorts, moaning.

She yawned, stretching her arms, and then she scratched her head gently, clicking her tongue. She looked down to the side of her bed after hearing a moan. She popped a grin.

"Hey, Gold," she said, beaming. "How ya doing today? And. . . ," she looked dubious now, "what're you doing on the floor?"

Gold didn't answer, he just stood up, his expression dangerously murderous, and tried to hide this, though he wasn't good at doing it (in spite he actually _knew_ he wasn't good at it- which was weird), by breaking a wide grin, breathing slowly.

He clicked his tongue loudly, not knowing what to say. Yellow sat up and tried to listen to her younger (but four inches taller) cousin, smiling sympathetically. This was hard, since Yellow smiling empathetically makes it difficult for _anybody_ to lie. She tilted her head a bit like a child would do if she were curious. Her eyes were staring into Gold's face, not moving them, they just stared. . .

_Crap_.

"Nothing, dear _cousin_," he said, adding emphasis to the word "cousin" significantly. "I'm just here to tell you that Uncle's finished cooking."

Though Yellow couldn't mistake his friendly tone, she'd spotted that the corner of Gold's mouth had twitched. Gold's inner self scowled as Yellow raised an eyebrow.

"Is there something you're not telling-?" she asked, but was interrupted when Gold snapped at her in an irritable voice she's never heard from him before in her entire life.

"Shut up and leave, Uncle's waiting with the steak."

Yellow immediately stood up and left without a word, eyes bulged, mouth sealed, hands beside the hips, marching silently, leaving Gold past her.

As she closed the door behind her, Gold nodded weakly. Then defiance whelmed inside him like lava, shouting after her at the door loudly, "Yeah, you better run!"

Then when he felt that he was talking to himself and he lost his confidence, he mumbled some stuff on his own and went out, leaving the door standing ajar.

As he had exited the bedroom, he walked past the several portraits Wilton had painted by himself in the Upper Hall, or as they call the miniature balcony they have inside their house which had hung posters and paintings of different important people neatly (and some dirtily) sketched.

He goaded past the pole of the stairs and used it to jump a few steps, landing on the fifth with a thud. Surfing, Skateboarding, Skiing, Billiards, Skating, Basketball, Baseball, Soccer, Tennis, and Badminton are things he does best. The other day when he'd finished playing Tennis, he called himself "Prince of _Penis_" all because there were admirers watching him play, most of them leaving with a revolted look on their faces. He was abashed, of course, since they were "sexy and hot and so rapeable".

He jumped the last four steps and slid into the kitchen dining room. He trotted to his seat, looking haughty, smiling heartily. He made a finger gesture to his Uncle Wilton and smirked at Yellow as if he were a superstar in the red carpet. He seized the top of his chair and sat on it next to Yellow, who was eating whole-heartedly; breakfast was her favorite meal of the day. She tossed her hair in what seemed to be in like a flirty way, but then again, when does she _ever_ flirt? She just doesn't get why most boys are attracted to her. She just helps them, then cupid's arrow hits them.

Gold yawned as he stretched his arms wide in an arrogant way, making Yellow lower her head a centimeter from the toast. Uncle Wilton strode over to them, leaving the spaghetti in the oven, beaming at them all. His eyes were purely black, unlike his niece's and nephew's, his eye color isn't as unique. Though Gold had inherited from him his outrageously jet-black hair hidden under his beanie which he rarely ever takes off; that's where Yellow got that personality from. She always never changes. She still ties her hair into a ponytail all the time, never cutting her hair off.

Uncle Wilton handed out the plates he was holding onto the table, still smiling. Yellow immediately jumped off her chair just to say, "Good morning, Uncle Wilton!"

Uncle Wilton patted Yellow on her messy head affectionately, making it to look even messier. Yet Yellow didn't mind, she loved it quite actually. She giggled and gulped her food down, a bit of syrup stuck near her mouth. She had often licked it, like a child, which made her act more and more like a youngster.

"Mm-mm, Uncle," she said, gobbling down for some more. She rarely was like this. . . unless there were sweets. Her eyes glinted as if she was greedy for some more. One thing about Yellow that was weird was that she never grew up like the others. Popularity? Not in _her _vocabulary. She was well contented with her true friends; Blue was a new student, and was very flirty, although she was always with Yellow, she was more down-to-earth than she looked she was: she detested the ones who thought they were so hot and cool in school, which was why she always preferred Yellow, Crystal, Sapphire and Missy with her: Crystal was always serious, that was why Yellow was always with her to make her ease up a bit, besides, she had no friends _her_ age (she worked for younger kids), and she was funny (at times when she gets "EH? YOU'RE OLDER THAN ME?"). Sapphire was the youngest of all of them, being only twelve, and was the shortest. She was kind of small, but never underestimate her. She was only about Yellow's height, who was also a _bit _short, so that's a big turnabout for Yellow, who'd been surprised to see a wild spirit in an imp body. She was. . . a bit aggressive. Wild as she is, she's got a good heart, although she has had a rivalry with the fop Ruby. Missy was Platinum's nickname, and whoever thought of it was really crazy. She was a _lady_ for crying out loud, _LADY_! A lot say that she was a snobby rich girl, but Yellow only shies up to them and says that she was only misunderstood.

Gold rolled his eyes at Yellow. He then returned to his breakfast when Uncle Wilton shot him a death glare. Right, Uncle Wilton gives Yellow pancakes and flapjacks for breakfast and all he gets is hotdog. But that's okay, since Gold was a beef-lover, but _just_ that? He scowled silently as he slumped over to the other side of the kitchen to get mayonnaise and ketchup.

When Yellow saw this, she asked the back of her cousin, whose front was busy squeezing the wretched ketchup. Her head cocked sideways, a look of concern in both of her eyes. She gulped the remaining pancake crumbs inside her mouth and said, "What's the matter with Gold, Uncle?"

Wilton had only been drinking water when she'd said this and nearly choked. The water had run only halfway to his lips. He winced a bit, lifting his back from the chair and lowering his hand on the table. From behind, Yellow heard her cousin chuckle aloud. She smiled feebly and just let it go by, giggling a bit.

Her mouth was a little dry apart from the fact that she's eaten about five pancakes with butter and syrup now. She clicked her tongue in a playful way when everyone had gone quiet, waiting for someone to speak. The silence was almost miraculous since they were making noises of all sorts afore. Yellow cleared her throat loudly as she always did whenever things are getting awkward. Gold shot her a look instantly and sighed while he cocked his head backwards, forcing his eyes to close.

"This is all too awkward for you, isn't it?" he said, pushing his head back, though can't helping a knowing smile. Yellow smiled feebly and went back to her food as if nothing had happened.

Yes, very awkward. Yellow stared at her plate which was full with the two remaining pancakes. . . and a half-bitten bacon. They formed a face. Though the smile was a bit crispy. She lifted her fork high and aimed for the middle of the bacon, then, striking it, nearly breaking the plate itself, she lifted it again and opened her mouth so that the bacon would enter. When she bit it, her uncle clicked his tongue. She looked up.

"Well, I can't say that this isn't awkward for me either," said Wilton, straightening himself in his seat. Gold slumped back to his seat, holding a stick which had a half-eaten hotdog stricken in the middle, the bite almost reaching the stick. Yellow could still see the ketchup and mayonnaise dripping from it. He pulled out his chair and sat. "Which is why, I'm happy to inform you, that we now have enough money-"

"He _always_ says that before we get broke," muttered Gold to himself, snickering. Yellow had heard it and can't help but giggle. Fortunately, Wilton didn't notice and continued.

"-to sail across the sea to Hoenn, this time tomorrow!" exclaimed Wilton, lifting his arm a few inches above elbow, posing a sign of victory by lowering his thumb, pinky and ring fingers. Gold's head came from his arms when he heard what Wilton said, beaming, and standing from his seat, extending his arms and celebrating. Wilton took his foot off the chair and his tone became abruptly business-like when he added, raising one eyebrow, glaring suspiciously at Gold, "But I should warn the both of you. The trip to Slateport-"

"'_We're going to __**Slateport**_?" Yellow said in surprise suddenly, rising to her feet as well, her eyes widened. The coast there must be horrific, since there was a tragic news report about it last week, about a flood, and about how fast the currents are in there. Her mouth can't possibly go any drier than this right now.

"Yeah! Remember, there's a _beach_ there, which means there'll be _girls_," added Gold, his eyes turning misty with lust of aroused desire, he just _had_ to bring a camera. . . and something contraceptive, if he could find one. He nudged his cousin in the shoulder, cocking his eyebrows knowingly.

Yellow found this irritable whenever he does this. She just doesn't get why he does that. But a _beach_? If there are girls, then, there will _surely_ be _**boys**_, won't there? And she couldn't hide her secret forever. . .

"Bet you anything the boys there would be begging on the floor to just look at those balls," said Gold, licking his hotdog stick like the creep he is, raising his eyebrows as his eyes stared at her chest the whole time.

She looked down and her eyes fell upon her chest, half-expecting that they were flat: indeed, they _have_ grown. And quite spontaneously, she might reluctantly add. Blushing, she turned back to Gold, looking flustered when he smirked lustfully, raised her hand, preparing for-

_SLAP_.

"**_BLOODY CRAP!_**" Gold shouted, groaning with pain when his voice was sucked into by swearwords, massaging his swelling cheek. Yellow's hands were cuffed on her mouth, gasping.

Gold kneeled on the floor, his hand still on his cheek, fainting. Wilton and Yellow stared at the pitiful figure, their eyes locked on Gold, looking slightly surprised. Then they exchanged uneasy and I've-seen-this-gig-once-before looks; Yellow had the uneasy look. She bit her lip nervously.

Wilton was suddenly overwhelmed with abrupt anger when he heard what Gold had murmured to himself quietly. He saw his lips move slowly, breathing several swearwords. Wilton looked down at Gold, scowling.

Yellow scooted closer to look, but Wilton made a gesture that she must leave the room, but was careful not to show what he was _really_ going to do. Yellow, quite guilty, took a few steps backward quietly at the time Uncle Wilton was pretending to comfort Gold. When she reached the floor out of the kitchen, she closed the door behind her, her chest rising up and down with regret.

Uncle Wilton made sure that she was completely gone, taking a step forward to cuff his hands over the back of his ears, hearing faint footsteps. He turned back to Gold's pitiful figure on the kitchen floor, raising an eyebrow. Then slapped Gold in the back with no regret; Gold moaned ("UGH!") and fainted literally this time. Uncle Wilton patted his hands together and left Gold on the kitchen floor.

He left the room, closing the door after him, proud of what he'd done.

Back to Yellow, she was upstairs, readying her stuff to Slateport. What was she to do there? It must be fun, since it was her Uncle's choice to go. But then again, he really wanted to have _grandkids_. Yellow tossed several clothes into her open bag on the bed, looking harassed by his decision. The beach wasn't her type of place to go, yet Gold _was_ the type to go. And she wondered why they were related. Her Uncle, Gold's father, was a rebel. So that was why Gold's mother had had it with him, divorced, and never talked about him since. Gold had inherited Yellow's eyes, for one thing, golden-amber for him, brown-amber for her. And he had inherited Yellow's jumpy bangs, though they weren't as jumpy before.

Yellow sighed in frustration as she spotted her bathing suit in her closet. It still fitted her, but that was years ago, when she wanted to be the center of attention in kids' parties. Now, seeming that she _still_ imagines having a boyfriend, she decided it would be best not to do anything- whatrash with her general physique. Her best friend Blue always did something rational to other boys, but she's treating her best childhood guy friend, Silver, who was also Gold's best friend, differently, though the both of the boys have taken a huge liking towards her. And it was already obvious that Gold likes her.

She thought for a while. She closed her eyes, imaging a boy her age, blonde hair, her height, and had her eyes. He was walking in the beach, clutching his straw hat, but was wearing a diver's suit. His straw hat was being taken off by Gold, who was laughing out loud like an idiot, the boy's hair fell and her secret was revealed. He could still have saved it. . . if it weren't for those bandages; they slipped off her chest instantly when Gold had taken off her hat. The crowd wowed and whistled like a wolf, the girl kneeled on the beach floor, her face buried in her hands, weeping.

She went back to reality, and the scene in her mind's eye popped like a bubble. She was sweating crazily, she wiped the sweat from her forehead, finding that she was already clutching the _damn _swimsuit. She looked at it with earnest seriousness, then tossed it into her bag. She smiled when the guilt had floated away from her chest; it was really uplifting. But who said she was going to swim in the beach?

She strode over to the side of her bed, and stretched her arms so that she could plop down, thinking deeply. She _was_ of age. . . And what harm would that bring her to? Actually, _everything_. She didn't think about love before, she thought it was only for the legible age, yet she _was_ of the legible age. Something inside her was trying to break free from the struggles she was giving it. Something in her mind lit like a light bulb; maybe they _weren't_ after her chest. . . She sat up, her back straight, and lifted her tee up a few inches above her tights, and, her left hand still raised to lift her tee, she slowly lifted her tights-

_Darn, _thought Yellow, letting go of the fabric as she nervously spread her arms out and plopping down on her bed. She was growing up. She looked at the facts whether anybody would still think of her as a boy; three inches of breast length, her waist was already in the shape of a wine bottle, and she was growing inches more in a week than she used to. Her eyes were staring fixedly on the ceiling, not taking them off it. She'd already packed her clothes, which were all of the same garments, her pajamas, her sketchpad, her pokéballs, her swimsuit and her-

Yellow shook her head at the thought. Her uncle always reminded her to wear it, but she preferred the bandages to keep her chest flat, yet it was as dangerous as poking a Slamance awake to not wear a bra whenever _Gold_ is around. She'd always tell the truth to her uncle, but that doesn't mean she'd tell him _everything _if he doesn't ask.

She closed her eyes, breathed deeply and muttered silently, "So we'll leave home this time tomorrow. . ." She wondered if she'd tell Blue. . .

She clapped her hands enthusiastically and decided that she would. Yellow rushed to her phone and stabbed her fingers excitedly on the dial. Her heart was pounding mad, and it seemed as if hot blood had coursed all the way up to her brain. She picked up the phone and waited for a moment.

Beep. . . Beep. . . Beep. . . Beep. . . Beep-

"_Yellow! I was hoping you'd call by now, I've been waiting near the booth for __**an hour**__,"_ Blue's voice said, slightly irritated followed by the sound of a truck honking its horn and disappearing out to the other street again.

Yellow felt a kind of idiocy swell up in her brain just as if a ballon blows up within her skull and her heart sank like a paper boat. She tried to say something, but no word came out.

There was a sigh from the other line of the phone. Then Blue's voice appeared again all of a sudden, now calm and cool, _"All right, all right. Now, you have to tell me something or else if you don't, you owe MORE a cent for this booth-"_

Yellow immediately spoke up, her voice excited yet nervous, "Weadnoughm'neyailcrossHoenn."

There was a kind of sputtering from the other line, in which Blue herself did of puzzlement, and a giggle escaped from her mouth. Yellow blushed: she'd thought her stomach had dropped and landed somewhere with a sound cross between a splash. . . and a thud.

When Blue's giggles had gone, she returned to her former self again, picking up the phone, she called back to Yellow, in the most irritable voice Yellow had heard, who knew which Blue tried to keep it cool, "What the_ hell _are you talking about?"

Yellow gulped. She fidgeted in her seat a while, not knowing what to say, then she repeated what she was _willing_ to say, "We had enough money to sail across the Sea of Hoenn."

There was an ear-piercing scream from the other line which had Yellow to keep her hands covering her ears. She didn't want her ears pierced just yet. Yellow knew that she was going to react this way, but why does her scream have to be _so loud_?

This ended for what seemed forever until Blue kept her cool again. Yellow took her hands off her ears and examined it; hopefully, she wasn't deaf yet.

"B-Blue-san? Are you still there?" she asked uneasily, hoping she is. There was a tremble in her voice that shook her like mad. Her hands were both clutching the phone nervously, shaking. Fifteen seconds flew by and Yellow wondered whether the scream was out of terror. . .

Then, to Yellow's relief, Blue came back.

"_I'm all right,"_ replied Blue coolly, although Yellow doubted she was _far_ from it. _"So. . . You sure if I could come?" _

Yellow creased her forehead a bit, thinking. She glanced at the door and turned back to the phone again. She didn't know. But if it was her Uncle, then surely he wouldn't let _Blue_ come. The memory still haunts him. . . Yellow shuddered.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want _you_ to get in the way again," said Yellow, smiling a bit from laughter. She tried to hide it but Blue saw right through her.

"_Yeah, yeah, I get it. No more cake for me,"_ said Blue automatically. The thought of ruining _a moment with someone_ with Uncle Wilton brings total horror to all. Then her tone became ecstatically different when she added teasingly, _"But once you're there, save me a guy!"_

Yellow was about to say something to Blue, her temper rising from total embarrassment, but before she could do it, Blue hung up. Yet she had, Yellow screamed, although she knew she had hung up, "BLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUE-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

There were shuffling of feet heard from the stairs and somebody sliding (which Yellow knew full well was Gold), and the footsteps became louder, until finally her door opened with a bang.

Uncle Wilton surveyed the area, holding up Gold's baseball bat, looking suspicious, in a weird stance Yellow had seen one too many times before. His eyes were darting from wall to wall until they landed on Yellow, who was smiling sheepishly. Gold, meanwhile, was looking as though he'd just been awake (probably from fainting). His right hand was palm-faced while his left was clutching tightly to a loaf of toast.

Gold lowered his hand slowly, his anxiety decreasing. He turned to Yellow, looking disappointed and said, "What the_ hell _was that about?"

Wilton stepped in, tossing the bat on the floor, his night-slippers making squeaky noises. "I agree with your cousin, what the _hell_ was that?"

Yellow shuffled her feet sheepishly still. Her eyes were staring fixedly on her knees. She knew that her family would behave this way. She gulped, then stammered, "I-I just got a c-call from B-Blue-san."

Gold's eyes instantly widened and his sleepy expression had been replaced by a flirty one. He raised an eyebrow, looking positively agog by this. "You did?"

Yellow was kind of revolted by how her cousin acts around her friend, due to the fact that she was _three years younger_ than him and she was, by all obvious means, _taller_ than him. Yet he always does this to _every _girl. Well, unless they're above thirty-years-old. But she responded anyways, and was about to plead Uncle Wilton to let Blue go with her, then she remembered_ Gold_, and forgot about Blue's going with her for a moment, "Y. . . yes, I did."

"What does she want?" snapped Uncle Wilton abruptly; he yawned out loud to show he had no interest before this point of the conversation. Yellow scratched the back of her neck, wincing slightly.

"Sh-she just. . . wanted to ask me what's up," she said automatically: completely carelessly. Gold's expression turned gloomy all of a sudden and turned around to face the door, slouching.

"Is that all she asked, Yellow-san?" said Gold grumpily, trying to make up a conversation with no thought of even continuing it. Yellow sensed this and didn't respond at once until he left the room.

She looked at Uncle Wilton, whose hands were on his hips, bawled into fists, with a murderous expression in his face. Yellow smiled, though she knew he couldn't be fooled.

"Last time that-"

"Don't call her a _taboo_ word, she's not like that. . ." said Yellow suddenly, standing up for her friend. Wilton scooted a step closer to Yellow, looking down her at eye level. Yellow smirked; she'd grown a few inches last summer and was still growing.

"Last time that _girl_ was here, she interrupted s-" he paused, looking down at her face; Yellow sneezed. He didn't want to teach her the wrong, so he continued as if nothing had happened, though his face was quite pink, "she interrupted something I was doing."

Yellow blushed as well. She'd been there too and hadn't understood exactly why Uncle Wilton was pinning that alluring woman to the wall, but now, she understood it all too well. He was just about to propose to her at the same night they were going to have-

"N-no, it's not that, it's just. . . . ," she began awkwardly, not knowing what to say, "she just wanted to ask me what's going on with me."

Wilton raised a suspicious eyebrow. Yellow became dubious too, then she realized what she had said and tried to patch it up.

"N-not like I've been weird or anything- I mean, about what's up with me, that's all," said Yellow, stammering. Uncle Wilton looked relieved with his expression like a Pineco going off at any second which has just turned off at the time Yellow spoke.

He turned to the door, waved his hand feebly, and saying, "Good, then, we'll be leaving at ten."

Yellow's heart gave a loud thump. She found herself on her feet, exclaiming loudly, "_What?_"

Uncle Wilton wheeled around to face her again, his eyebrow was cocked unknowingly. He had a look on him that spelled "I thought you already knew?". Yellow knew her Uncle all too well now, though he was _still _full of surprises. "You weren't told? The plan's changed. The rudder of the boat was already fixed and we're set and packing, aren't we? Why not?"

Then he marched off without another word, biting his toothpick so it can be raised high, reaching the first step of the stairs, leaving Yellow gaping inside her bedroom, shocked. When will they _ever_ return here? Was she going to leave all her friends behind? Well, _friend_. Her other best friend was, of course, in the other region different from Hoenn and Kanto.

She let herself fall on her bed and stare at the ceiling with dismay. What on earth was she to do there? God knows.

**_A/N: Wow! Writing sure is fun! Have an awesome summer! I'm not going to learn in the same school anymore after summer ends. . . but my friends (including YOU and the teachers) will somehow remember me a lot longer than I can them. But I will always remember to update soon, so see ya! _**


	2. The Storm

First Chapter: The Storm

"Toss it- no, not up at _my _trunk, the one near-! Yes, that's the one!" said Uncle Wilton, who was directing Gold which trunk he should land his bag on. Yellow heaved a depressed sigh as she, with the help of Gold and Uncle Wilton, hoisted her bag on the boat. She didn't like this at all. She usually loved the fishing trips they'd had every time they went out to sea and sell them , but this was different. Her expression was kind of cross when Gold pulled down his goggles from his hat and said, "Come on, Yellow, lighten up! You're acting a lot like Super Serious Gal right now!"

Yellow gave him a weak smile, then pulled herself on the boat, with the help of Gold, of course. She looked at the sky; it was cloudless, the perfect day to go to Hoenn.

"All aboard, aye, kids?" called Uncle Wilton from the upper portion of the boat, grinning at them. Both Yellow and Gold returned the grin by smiling back at him playfully reassuring.

She gazed up in the sky, the sunlight basking upon them with such heat. Yellow couldn't even look at the sun directly; yet Gold could. Yellow didn't forget that Gold _was_ wearing goggles. The air felt cool, kind of refreshing. . . So pleasing, even, that Yellow fell asleep. Gold knew that this would happen, and didn't bother to wake her up. It would be a long journey getting there. How far they'd be, it was nowhere near Yellow's knowledge and understanding. She could feel the heat of the sun sting in her skin, though she could've sworn it turned cooller, but it might just be her imagination, because the weather is completely sunny, and always will be until the day ends, at least, in Yellow's view.

Hours swept by and Yellow had woken up. She found herself looking at the ship floor and cocked her head up and stretched her arms freely. They _must_ be nearing Hoenn by now. She looked out at sea; there weren't many pokémon flying around nor swimming in the water clearly.

She glanced back at her cousin, who had looked as if he'd just woken up as well, stretching his arms and yawning. Yellow could feel something coming closer. . .

A cold breeze just swept past her, almost greeting her. But there was something almost wrong about the atmosphere. . . Then she noticed the clouds closing in on them. She felt. . . disturbed somehow. There was almost an unfriendly air about this. . . Maybe the wind _didn't_ come here to greet her at all, which is, of course, only a personification. . . She found herself standing from her seat, surveying the area.

She whirled around, but Gold pulled her down to her seat when the boat accelerated speed. She landed on the pillow with a wince and turned to Gold, who was also looking worried.

"Weird," he said absentmindedly, gazing up at the cloudy sky dubiously. Yellow couldn't help but feel suspicious as well. "The weather was perfect a while ago."

Yellow tried her hardest as to not pay attention to the sky and look under the boat instead, to keep her mind off some things. Alas, to no avail, the water had reflected the sky, and Yellow had just looked up in time to see something bright that had flashed in the cloud.

Their uncle was also paying his most attention to the same thing. Yellow pulled down her seatbelt of the seat and shouted, "Uncle! I think we should head back!"

Wilton turned his head around to look at Yellow; he was frowning. He bit his toothpick so hard, it broke into two, only a few millimeters left to support it. He was steering the boat further and didn't listen to Yellow.

"We. . . can't," murmured Wilton quietly, his eyes darting from one side of the thick fog to the other. Yellow and Gold both exchanged nervous and worried looks. Gold was looking a bit more serious than ever. Yellow looked horrified when the clouds suddenly thundered with drizzle and the boat began to rock.

The clouds had hit each other again and thunder roared, followed by a strike of lightning that had hit somewhere in a distance. Gold held on to the bar of the side of the boat, his shirt and jacket both flapping themselves wildly, and so were Yellow's.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Yellow yelled, being swept away by the wind, she'd been lifted into the air a few inches and was lucky she aimed for a grip on the mast.

Gold felt his hair being played at by the wind yet, for the first time, he had more matters to think about than his hair. He called out to Uncle Wilton, shouting out loud because of the whispers of the strong wind, "UNCLE WILTOOOOOON! WE SHOULD BE NEARING HOENN SOOOOOOOOOOON! LET'S JUST JUMP INTO THE WATER AND SWIM-"

But the rest of his sentence was unheard of when the wind swept by them, if possible, even stronger. Through all of these noises, Gold was still able to hear what Wilton had murmured quietly.

"We. . . can't."

"_W-we __**can't**_?" bellowed Gold, holding on to his cap and goggles as the wind had gotten stronger and swept by them as a whirlwind. As the wind grew stronger, their grips were tightening on the bars of the side of the boat. "_I-Isn't there an island nearby that we can port safely to? YELLOW- ARE YOU STILL THERE?_"

Yellow wasn't listening to her relatives at all; she was too busy trying to hold on to anything heavy, screaming wildly as the waves hit the boat. Then, she felt several drops titter swiftly down her cheeks-

"**CRAP, IT'S A STORM**!" Gold exclaimed loudly, his grip losing from the bar as the rain poured down on them. The cold winds swept by and swept away, but will always return every second. He felt himself being carried by the wind and being swept away, leaving both Yellow and Uncle Wilton shouting out after him, "_**GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLD!**_"

Yellow felt that she had lost all the things dear to her except her pokémon. Paying all her attention to Gold, she was praying for dear life when she lost her grip from the panel and flew into the direction of the wind, screaming madly, waving her arms frantically around to get a hold of something to catch her fall-

Then she did. Someone was gripping her arm tightly so that she won't fly away, yet the only thing Yellow could feel aside from pain from the grip was the cold. The rain had poured almost endlessly when this began, and so did the merciless wind, making the boat rock and go with the direction of the waves as they bumped the boat back and forth, left and right, starboard and-

"_**UUUUUUUNNNNNNNCLLLE WIIIIIIIIIIILTOOOOOOOOOON**_!" Yellow cried frantically, when she felt his grip slipping from her arm and floating over the wind's total control.

"_**YELLOOOOOOW**_!" Wilton yelled after her, though he didn't let go of the boat's steering wheel. When Yellow was a distance away, however, he'd seen that Gold was nowhere to be found either. "_**GOLD! YELLOW! KIDS, WHERE ARE YOU?**_"

Drops warmer than the rain had streaked down his cheeks; holding back these tears, he tried to remember; they have their pokémon with them, and he _has_ to steer the boat to safety from the storm. His grip on the wheel had tightened once he had thought of this risky idea.

Yet he had to trust them. His knuckles had crunched while his mind was going through this. He can't hear himself think through the deadly storm; the winds were whispering in his ear loudly. Uncle Wilton took one last glance at the sky, where the both of them had been carried by the wind to, thinking that the two of them will come back, flying, then-

For a second there, he'd thought that they _were_ flying back to him- though he couldn't see a clearer view from the damn storm; the wind had forced to blow particles into his eye that he forced himself to open them, his left hand maneuvering the boat while his other was shielding his eyes from the dust the wind was carrying with them.

In a distance, he saw a black- wait, it was coming closer- in closer inspection, it was something blue and white carrying two heavy loads with him- or they're holding on to it- the one load on the left side's hand waved and (Wilton thought he'd heard it come from her) shouted, "WEEEEEE'RE SAAAAAAAAFE, UNCLE WIIIIILTOOOOOOOOOOON!"

Yellow smiled, still wet, but happy to be alive. Her right hand was clutching tightly on to Gold's Mantine's wing, who was drifting away by the wind slowly, but could still fly in their direction. It seemed like Yellow was trying her hardest to grab on to him because her left arm was waving frantically while Gold, who was used to flying on to his Mantine, hadn't panicked about the flight, but about how they were going to get to Wilton in this weather.

Gold heard a thunder clap from above and glanced down at Mantine, "MANTINE, GO LEFT!"

His Mantine pushed itself to its limits and flapped its wings desperately three times, aiming left, then the thunder clapped again, and, for half a second, Mantine had stooped down to the water with a splash, making both Gold and Yellow wetter, and the lightning had stricken above them, as they'd seen below.

Yellow had her mouth full of water already, eyes closed of the salty tang of the ocean, she had her hands clutched on to Mantine's hide for dear life the entire time. The water wasn't as cold as the rain had been, so Yellow felt a bit more comfortable underwater, but her breath won't last long. . . She could feel Gold's hand, which was next to hers, have difficulty in gripping on to Mantine's back, because he'd been clutching on to it for a long time now. It was prior instinct that, for all Yellow's knowledge, she knew that Gold was already wearing his goggles.

Yellow's heart began to pump itself wildly as the blood in her brain sort of twisted. She was losing her breath. . . She opened her mouth as bubbles had escaped from them, letting Gold know that she was losing oxygen.

Gold glanced at his cousin, who was now unconscious underwater. His heart had missed a beat. Thinking quickly, he patted Mantine on the back, yet his breath was also losing. . . bit by bit. . . And his remaining strength could barely make him lift his hand. . . ignoring Yellow's collapsed body for a while, but gripping his other hand on hers, Gold continued driving themselves away from the storm.

The water in the ocean had entered in his goggles, and he couldn't see anything. . . he needed help here. . . but he couldn't send out any of their other pokémon. . . it wasn't worth the risk. . . Mantine was the only Water-Type he had. . . and Omny wasn't strong enough to carry either of them. . . he felt his wet clothes heave him down as the rain poured endlessly on them. . . he had never felt so weak in his entire life.

Mantine felt the slight, weak thump on his hide and acted quickly. He glided upwards and, flapping its wings, it rose from the water-

Yellow gasped for breath. She opened her eyes weakly when she realized she was swallowing seawater, which she coughed up immediately. Rain had poured down endlessly on them, and her vision wasn't as clear as it had been before. . .

She rubbed her eyes, noticed that it was most probably the salty sea tang, and held on tightly to Mantine. Yellow remembered Gold hasn't still named him yet. . . This must be why Mantine must be feeling sad all the time. . . She patted his back affectionately, then muttered feebly, but still grateful, "Y-you were fantastic, _Mantaro_ . . ."

_Mantaro _didn't have much time to answer. It swam swiftly to the boat which was still being sheltered in by Uncle Wilton. Yellow tried to wave her hand to make him notice them, but what was the use if he was too busy controlling the boat? Yellow forced herself to open her eyes as they waves splashed the salty water into her eyes.

The pain in her muscles of her arms was strengthening once in a while, making Yellow vulnerable. There are other pokémon in the sea that are hungry for-

Yellow shook her head, panting. She squinted her eyes so that the water (both rain and salty) won't get into her eyes, and so that she could see if Uncle Wilton was still on the boat. . .

Another huge wave splashed on top of them, yet Mantaro had still moved on, swam nearer to the boat. Yellow's grip was slipping; then she remembered that Gold was there too.

She glanced behind her back, her heart thumping wildly in her chest, thinking, bewildered, if Gold was still on Mantaro's back: much to Yellow's relief, he was, though unconscious.

"G-gold. . . ," she said groggily. She held out her hand, weakly, and somberly shook Gold's back to help her maneuver Mantaro. When her hands had touched his back, she noticed that his clothes were cold with rain as the raindrops showered down endlessly on them. Yellow could've sworn that this was the worst vacation ever. And they didn't even had the chance to land on Hoenn yet.

Yellow felt Gold shaking. Relieved over this with joy, she closed her eyes for a bit, feeling tired, and, heaving a huge sigh of feeble attempt to breathe because the waves were crashing down on them almost endlessly. . . She felt her breathing. . . She felt the rain titter down heavily on her body with ease. . . Her eyelids were drooping down unconsciously, and the last thing she'd seen were two amber eyes staring down at her. . .

Yellow blinked. She felt a warm tropical breeze sweep by her hair, and she saw, though not clearly enough; her bangs were fluttering away a few inches from her eyes, a pair of feet which were kneeling down.

Head spinning still, she tried to sit up, yet her feet were disobeying their own master's orders. Yellow clicked her mouth, which had been dry all of a sudden, and was about to sit up, lifting her head from the wooden floor a few inches, when she heard a familiar voice say, rather dryly, ". . . d'you think she's still alive?"

There were shuffling of feet. Yellow squinted her eyes a bit so that they could think that she's still asleep. Her eyes were a bit too drowsy to keep her awake, but she could hear everything from there. She slowly landed her head down on the floor again, her left ear not able to hear anything, but her right could hear every word the two people were saying.

"She's still asleep, but yes, alive," an old, croaked voice replied coolly, and Yellow could see that the man talking had a long beard, and was short. She noticed as well that she wasn't outside anywhere, but could see the wooden floor of the room. Her eyes were darting from appliance to window, while her ears were listening very carefully to the conversation.

The first man sighed with relief. Yellow had now realized that the first man was her uncle. Her eyes had landed upon a bed when her uncle had lifted her up on another one. She forced herself to squint her eyes further because she wanted to see the face of the figure which had lied on the bed. Before she could, however, she felt her head drop on a pillow and her body was at ease. The bed was truly softer than the wooden floor.

Yellow inhaled so that Uncle Wilton would see for himself that she's still breathing. She immediately closed her eyes shut from squinting when she felt Uncle Wilton's warm breathing near her face. Uncle Wilton turned to the other man, whom Yellow forgot was there.

"Thanks," he began awkwardly, smiling. The other man raised an eyebrow and coughed. The old man's eyebrows were so thick, Yellow could see it while squinting: they were covering his wrinkled forehead. And at last Yellow knew what he was: an old hermit from the looks of it. "I don't know how we could ever repay you."

"No need," said the hermit, though he looked troubled. He played with his fingers and said, grinning goofily, baring his yellow teeth, "but you need to let me check your niece-"

Yellow's eyes widened. Even Uncle Wilton hadn't expected this judging by how hard his enclosed fist hit the table. Yellow was in the verge of killing the old man. She could feel a cold shiver run down her spine.

"_**CHECK**_ MY NIECE? CHECK MY _**NIECE**_? _**CHECK YELLOW**_?" Uncle Wilton bellowed so loudly, the figure on the bed awakened and sat up, looking sleepy still. And Yellow saw that the figure had been her injured cousin Gold, whose hair was still unkempt (but who was she to say), and still a bit damp.

"Hey, where am I?" said Gold, looking around the room, bewildered. He had said what Yellow had thought in her mind. When Gold's golden-amber eyes had landed upon the old hermit, he yelled, "Who's that old man?"

She wanted to sit up and hug him, but if she did, she would give away her position.

Uncle Wilton cocked his head to Gold's side, looking furious, then bellowed once again, pointing at the smiling old hermit, his finger trembling with sudden rage and utter fury, "THIS OLD, PERVERSE PROSTITUTE GIGOLO WANTS TO RAPE YELLOW!"

Gold's face contorted. It was amazing to see how fast the transformation was, a second ago, he was puzzled and confused, and now, his face looked murderous. Gold clenched his fists so loudly, Yellow could hear it crunch from there. The old hermit looked as if understanding what the situation was.

"Check?" he repeated, looking surprised, raising his thick eyebrow. His tone was somehow making Yellow feel relieved. Gold retracted his bawled fists. Uncle Wilton sputtered noiselessly. "Check? Check her for _what_? I'm an old man, I couldn't hear a thing you're saying, whippersnappers!"

"Y-you're not gonna rape- rape Yellow?" sputtered Uncle Wilton, his lips quivering. He sighed with relief and patted the old man on the shoulder, as if he hadn't spoken.

Gold's left eye was twitching. Then, his expression became dubiously curious. He slid off the bed and looked around the small hut. He winced a bit as his left elbow throbbed. He wandered around the room with a gloating face Yellow had seen countless times before.

"B-but then what _are_ you gonna check her up on?" asked Uncle Wilton, sheepish, when the old hermit strode over to Yellow, who was trembling nervously, pushing Gold aside to let him check her. The hermit looked very troubled when he clicked his tongue sympathetically, sitting on Yellow's bed, tutting quietly to himself, almost as if Yellow were something to be worried of. Gold scowled.

"What the hell are you tutting for, old man?" he demanded, annoyed, walking up to face the back of the old hermit. Yellow was used to Gold's impoliteness, though she never saw him do this to an old person, especially a hermit. Yellow forced herself to shut her eyes and breathe slowly to act asleep, uneasy of the fact that the old hermit was observing her suspiciously.

"This girl, I believed she brought food with her?" he asked, finally standing up, much to Yellow's relief. Though she'd seen Gold facing her with the utmost suspicion. She pretended to move in her sleep by shifting her position. Uncle Wilton seemed surprised by this question, judging by how he winced.

"Y-yeah, I think so," he said, then paused, thinking of how Yellow loved to bring sweets. "Yes, now that you mention it, she did."

Yellow could feel her stomach growl. She hugged her stomach, facing to her right, where the bed Gold had once occupied was, and made some snoring noises so that Gold could see that she was still asleep. Yet Yellow could still feel his eyes stare at her uneasily. She gulped.

"Good," said the hermit, making his way to Yellow, looking down to her. Gold's anxiety had risen when he realized that the old hermit was staring at Yellow's-

There was a loud thump when Gold smacked the hermit's head, who was one or two feet shorter than he was. Gold snarled, "Get your eyes off of my cousin's chest, you screw!"

"Wha-wha-wha-what did _I_ do?" the old hermit sputtered, stumbling to get up. He lifted himself up by heaving his weight, his hands, which were clutched tightly on the side of Yellow's bed, supporting him.

"You know full well what you did, you filthy asshole," said Gold, flexing his knuckles threateningly when the old man barely managed to stand up.

"I didn't do-"

"Gold, he was staring at Yellow's bag tied around her waist," Uncle Wilton pointed out sheepishly, pointing at Yellow's belt. Gold winced. He looked down at the old hermit again and smiled weakly, Yellow had seen. Yet the old hermit didn't. And this must be a problem. For Gold, that is.

"Guess it's all a misunderstanding, eh, old man?" he said reasonably, trying to patch things up, embarrassed, stepping away from the old hermit. The old hermit tried to collect himself before he whacked Gold in the head a fair few times with his walking stick.

Yellow can't take it anymore. She lifted herself up from the bed, looking harassed, her hair more unkempt than Gold's because it was pulled down, stretching her arms, pretending she's just awakened, and, yawning, she noticed that both Gold and the old hermit were looking at her fixedly.

Pretending still, she opened her eyes slowly, for the first time since she woke up (she narrowed them down a bit so that they will think she's still asleep). Once she opened them, the first thing she saw was Gold's dumbfounded face, whose eyes had widened in a way not normal. Yellow thought he looked hysterical, but didn't give in. She felt that the old man was way too below to her eye-level, which probably explains why Gold was now directing his attention to her.

"Where are we?" she asked suddenly, sitting up. Gold backed a few steps, pulling the old man next to him away from Yellow.

"Gold, who's this?" she added, acting so that they weren't dubious, pointing at the old man, who had the expression of a weird mixture of puzzlement and pleasure. It seems that he was used to people calling him the same thing all over again: "old man".

"Oh, this," said Gold, thrusting his palm at the old man's head ("Getoffame, whippersnapper!" he cursed as if he had never seen or heard of such a thing like Gold). "He's screw."

Uncle Wilton smacked Gold's head, letting the little old man go, and, with a welcoming, growling voice, more to Gold than to Yellow, he replied, snarling a bit, "No he's not. And this- erm- spirited old fellow helped us gain conscious when we were swept by the storm to this island just a few miles off the coast of Pacifidlog."

"_Y-you mean that Pacifidlog's just a few miles from here_?" Yellow interrupted abruptly, shifting her eyes from Gold and Uncle Wilton, bewildered. How many days have they been unconscious, anyway? The thought that runs inside Yellow's mind like a Rapidash. She clenched her fists, wanting to know more.

"As old Barty- this ol' hermit here- says so," interjected Uncle Wilton, raising his index up, trying to make a point. Yellow gaped at him, confused as she already is. Uncle Wilton saw right through that and added, "We've been here since one o'clock this morning. And don't be stupid enough to get to Pacifidlog yourself. We don't have business there, anyway."

Yellow's mind seemed blurry, and she can't see a thing as well. All she could hear was herself thinking. She blinked several times before saying something again.

She opened and closed her mouth a fair few times after her vision came back to reality. Gold's face looked concerned. She hesitated a fair few times before replying, nervously, "S-so when're we gonna get _out_ of here?"

Uncle Wilton clicked his tongue uneasily. Gold put his hand on his uncle's shoulder and shook him violently, hoping for it not to be true. Yellow's jaw dropped.

"Please, no, no, there must be a way, there _has_ to!" Gold pleaded frantically, shaking him still. He just couldn't leave all the sexy girls in the beach, he couldn't. He shouldn't. "Please, Uncle Wilton!"

Wilton smiled feebly, sitting down on Yellow's bed, where she scooted to the right to let him sit down, burying his face into his hands, then, after a while, he frustratingly rubbed his forehead, sighing. Gold stood next to him, looking outraged. He was pointing at the window, where there was a palm tree at the side and where a deserted beach was, making several desperate gestures.

"W-we _have _to get out of here!" he said, panting. "I can't stand another second with Dumbledore here!"

The old hermit smiled unexpectedly. Yellow didn't think that using the Hogwarts headmaster's name was much of an insult. "I love Harry Potter."

Yellow smiled weakly to show politeness, blushing, raising her hand awkwardly out of the crowd, "I'm addicted to it, too: Luna and Ginny are my favorites."

Uncle Wilton held up a hand impatiently to show dismissal of the subject, feeling awkward. Gold stared at his cousin in utter obnoxiousness and slapped his forehead, then pulling his hand down while his fingers ran roughly against his skin. Yellow recognized the disquiet of both her male relatives and shuffled her feet, embarrassed.

"Let's just- just not talk about that for now," said Gold, standing in between the both of them. He then turned his attention to his uncle, looking ravaged. "We can't just sit here! We've gotta get back! We don't have- we don't have anybody youthful to talk to!"

Yellow winced a little while she watched him shouting; he looked like Uncle Wilton himself in his rages: messy hair, damp clothes, the all-too-seen slit eyes and how high the voice was. Barty's eyes squinted murderously.

Gold kept going on and on about this, shouting, as Barty, the old hermit, stepped a bit closer to him, edging his way to Gold, "I NEED A GUY TO TALK TO, NOT AN OLD, BATTERED OUT MAN! AND THERE AREN'T ANY CHICKS IN HERE EITHER, BY THE LOOKS OF IT, UNLESS _BARMY_'S GOT MARRIED TO AN OLD B-!"

Barty, whom Yellow had forgotten was there until at this point, smacked Gold in the head, whose head had already hit the floor. Yellow gulped. Wilton didn't do anything but stand in the corner near them with both his arms and feet folded, stern-faced.

"Gold, this ol- I mean, Barty nursed us all back to health and is now willing to let us stay until there's a rescue ship that'll go by," he said sternly, wagging his finger warningly. Then a nerve snapped from within Yellow's veins. The boat-

"Wha- what happened to the boat?" she spluttered, her heart beating fast.

"The boat?" Uncle Wilton repeated, slightly spluttering himself. Gold straightened his position to listen carefully, giving his full and undivided attention to him. "It. . . It. . . It's. . ."

Gold knew where this was going. He peered outside the paneless window and his heart throbbed. His fingers were shaking madly, Yellow noticed, and there was a great absence of Gold's usual arrogance in which she first realized. She heard him gasp audibly, and can't help but. . .

"The boat. . . It's. . . ," said Gold, trembling, piercing his fingernails so deeply into the damp wood of the window, it seemed as if it were about to dig through a hole. "It's crashed."

Yellow's heart sank. She saw at the corner of her eye Uncle Wilton's eyes close slowly, and whom was looking exceptionally stressful right now. He buried his face within his hands and sighed like he did earlier.

Yellow's lips trembled. The boat. . . It couldn't have. . . It had always been there for years, where they'd gone to trips. . . It seemed so sturdy. . . So many memories. . .

Yellow stared at the pitiful figure crouching down on the window sill, whose breathing was slow. Gold seemed to have taken this a bit too seriously, Yellow thought. . .

Uncle Wilton strode over to Gold, sitting down the bed where he had lain earlier. The both of them looked troubled. Barty, who didn't seem to be quite emotional of the scene, looked revolted and at the same time puzzled.

He tapped Yellow on the shoulder and she bent down low to his height, lending him her ear, in which time he muttered, "What's so important about a big damn boat?"

Yellow sat up again and opened her mouth to reply quietly, "Uncle Wilton's first fishing boat and where Gold had his first party."

Barty nodded slowly, understanding. Yellow nodded and smiled because she was glad the old man understood this kind of moment only comes rarely. But she can't help but feel sorry for them.

Uncle Wilton patted Gold on the back, tears streaming endlessly from his eyes like the rain yesterday, as if they were soldiers in a lost battle where a dead soldier had been. Gold's teeth were clenched and his face was shaded by the shadows of his bangs, looking furious but close to tears right now.

All her stuff. . . Then a chilling, horrifying thought appeared randomly inside her mind: were her pokémon all complete? Her heart missed a beat when she nervously put her hands behind her and tried to feel her pokéballs; they were all complete. She sighed and plopped down the pillow again, trying her hardest to ignore their stifling sniffs.

Yet she could still hear them.

"I-It was my f-f-first boat!"

"I left my. . . ," Gold breathed, unable to continue. Yellow sat up and sighed. She walked over to him and patted his back, still ignoring her uncle's sobs. A breeze blew by, and it didn't feel as pleasant as it should be.

"Go on, say it, Gold," said Yellow, her eyes blurry of tears. Her cheeks were becoming warm when the tears had tittered down to her chin already, her hair flying from the wind. "Say it."

"I. . . I left Silver's _ipod_ there!"

_**A/N: Hi, everyone. I'm just here to tell you that I'm sorry for not much details I put in the storm. I know, but I wrote this when I was ELEVEN! Just ELEVEN! I know, I know, I should've thought this idea out before submitting it. **_


	3. Being Less bi an' talks and Calligraphy

Second Chapter: Being Less bi an' talks and Calligraphy

It wasn't long before they were used to all the things there. Gold had finally learned to open a coconut shell by his own and Yellow had finally tasted coconut; it was sweet, unfortunately. For Gold and Uncle Wilton, that is. It had been already two days since they crashed here, in which time they probably enjoyed themselves: story-telling, sleepless nights, sleepy mornings whenever all of them must forage for food in whichever way it may be; fishing or climbing palm trees.

Yellow was to forage, of course, and had enough time to play and take care of the pokémon by herself, not knowing what to do after lunch. She brought her sketchpad, of course, but what use was that if she didn't have an inspiration?

Barty was away ever since earlier this morning, and wouldn't be back until their thirdday, which means by tomorrow. Yellow was curious as to where he goes off every dinnertime, and by that time, she and Gold would sneak off to his collection of story books, both for teens and children, while Uncle Wilton and him are talking about women drunk, which wasn't a pretty discussion, at which time he would be back from where he was. This seems as if they were all used to this although it's only've been two nights and one day.

So far, they read about the books and stories Barty kept above the bookshelf, where he keeps inside the _good stuff_. That second day stranded on the island of the night, at the time Uncle Wilton was asleep, Gold pushed a chair near the bookshelf and helped Yellow stand there carefully.

"C-careful, Gold! This is a hut! It only has two rooms! Uncle Wilton might hear us," she said, clinging on to Gold's torso. Gold blushed, but was fortunate that it was dark. He gripped on tightly to the chair to keep Yellow still from falling.

"I know, I know," he said, having problems with the chair and the fact that Yellow. Just. _Couldn't_. Keep. Still. He felt he himself was shaking along with the chair with Yellow. "S-_stay still, would you_?"

"I'm sorry!" said Yellow, unable to sustain her balance. She grabbed hold of the shelf, letting Gold go unbeknownst to herself, and clumsily made Gold (and the chair) fall down. Yet Yellow, still hanging in there, her hands slipping from the shelf, managed to keep her balance, her blond hair swinging back and forth. . . and so did her feet.

She heard Gold curse under his breath menacingly, but she was focusing on staying up there: she was slipping. Her fingers desperately digging into the dusty wooden shelf.

"G-Gold! I'm sl-slipping!"

She heard her cousin stifle a moan, and then she heard him stand up; partly because there was a spontaneous amount of floor-creaking, and mostly because she heard him mutter, "I'm on it, geez."

Not a while later, she felt herself being lifted up from her feet by hand; Yellow gave a wince, then heard Gold say, who was already on his feet, his hands lifting Yellow, "Not too bad, eh, Blondie?"

Her heart has beaten about more than seventy-eight times that second. She could feel her stomach drop when she looked down. _How many miles was she from the ground_?

"Oh my God!" she said, her hands waving frantically, scratching the top of the bookshelf like a mad Meowth. She was never going to do this again, ever. Gold was having a hard time trying to cease Yellow from her phobia, whose feet were now trembling with fear.

"S-Stop doing this and hurry up!" Gold half-shouted, his teeth gritted, and as Yellow looked down to look at his face, she realized she couldn't; her foot was already stomping his squashed face.

"Ah, sorry, Gold!" she said, slipping from the engraved marks of the sides of the surface of the shelf, looking down at the pitiful figure pleading.

"JUST GET THE DAMN BOOKS!"

"R-right," Yellow stuttered, giving her full attention to the shelf, turning around. She patted her right hand several times before sneezing. Then she felt Gold wobble; she hurriedly smoothed her hand on the surface of the bookshelf before Gold could fidget uncomfortably. This was never going to happen again, she swore. As her hand ran through the surface, she suddenly stopped from an abrupt bump of something really thick and heavy.

"I found it!" she cried, pushing the books down as they fell-

"I GOT IT!" Gold shouted, getting up and letting Yellow fall flat-faced on the wooden dusty floor, whimpering, catching the heavy books by hands.

Yellow muttered something while her eyes were closed, face-down. Her hair had fallen ahead of her yet she fell by head. She sat up, her face dirty with dust, wiping the dirt off her face with her hand, which, too, was full of dirt unbeknownst to her. Though she was used to this, being Gold's careless, clumsy sidekick and all, but did everything _have_ to hurt?

She stifled a moan as she got up and patted the dirt on her clothes tentatively, not paying attention to Gold's boastful praises to himself ("I knew we could do it!"). Still wiping dirt, she walked over to Gold's side and listened as he said, in his most dramatic voice, " _'Of the many islands Hoenn beholds, there is none more mysterious than Mirage Island. . .' _

"What d'you think is Mirage Island, Yellow?" Gold asked so abruptly Yellow was surprised to even been addressed like that. She pulled herself together and replied quite casually, though uncertain, "I think from the word 'mirage' itself?"

Gold shrugged and kept going on and on while Yellow was left to her own thoughts; she remembered the last few days they had here, quite boring without civilization. . .

**Yesterday**

"Is this island small or what?" said Gold loudly, looking around the tall palm trees curiously. Yellow sighed as the wind blew by them, lost in thoughts.

"So," said Uncle Wilton from behind, catching up with Barty while jogging. Yellow stared at them all unknowingly, hiding inside the hut. She was supposed to be fishing, but she's got a lot inside her mind. "what time does the next boat arrive around here?"

Yellow didn't pay attention to them at all. Her eyes shifted from one person to the other then to Gold's Ataro, who was climbing up the palm tree. Then she stared down the sand, moving them back to-

She realized she was now looking down her fingers, which were trembling wildly. She was somehow getting a cold. . . or _was_ it a cold?

As she tilted her head up to gaze at the sky, she noticed the absence of the sunny sky, though cloudy, it doesn't seem like it would rain anytime soon. . .

His eyes were the darkest shade of amber-brown, just like hers. His hair was blonde, just like hers, and was as unkempt. He always wore a smile on his face, happy and gay, while she preferred to remain in the dark, hidden and unlikely to greet. . .

She's hiding her true gender from everybody, and was too shy to admit it. . . Yet she couldn't understand why she wasn't proud of being a girl. . .

Boys like to play just like she did, and she never actually tries to wear skirts. Ever. She wears a hat, not a ribbon nor a headband, not a dress but a thing that's. . . that's. . . God, even _Yellow _doesn't know what the heck she wears.

Yellow pulled a spot on her _overwear_ and _scowled_: for the first time. She let it go and sighed deeply, and let her thoughts rule over her mind, feeling the tropical breeze blow over again.

She could climb a tree while other girls can't, but she doesn't do it often today. . . She _fished_ all day, everyday of her life since she got it. . . Then she never liked using make-up. Let alone love it. For another thing, she still hasn't. . . seen someone yet.

Her eyes were shining with tears as she tried to picture herself in a beautiful day, where there were people all around, smiling, and shaking their hands with her. She looked around the place, beaming, and there she was: instead of seeing herself in a gorgeous, white wedding gown, she'd seen another girl wearing it, who, in fact, was herself. She glanced down her clothes: she was wearing a tux. She tried to cock her head to the side to look at the other guests but her bride had broken into an embrace with her-

She shook her head violently, slapping her cheeks. She heard her Uncle from the outside talk with Barty in a very loud and proud voice. Yellow can't help but press her ear against the wall below the window to eavesdrop them as they walked by, not bothering to keep their voices low, saying, ". . . you should just leave all that to my niece, Yellow."

Yellow peeked through the hole of the wall below the window and saw Barty raise an eyebrow and stop walking. Uncle Wilton stopped as well. She wondered whether this was a good conversation or not. . . It _was_, now it's not. She could feel the tense atmosphere surround them even though there was no sparkle of sunlight here.

"You do know she's a girl, don't you?" he said, astounded, even through his croaky, raspy voice, clutching his heart with his hand dramatically, taking a step back which Yellow guessed was a late reaction. So what if she was a girl?

Yellow's heart melted and blood boiled in her brain as her uncle replied, "Yeah, but Yellow could handle it- she's not an ordinary girl, if you know what I mean; fishing, playing, surfing, training, climbing trees at times. . . It's not normal, I tell you, though she's different in a good way."

Yellow could feel her blood course inside her body fast, and pressed her ear deeper into the hole, breathing heavily. Her teeth gritted, willing to listen more.

"There are. . . things that have been happening here," said Barty darkly, shaking his head and turning to the ocean which was under the cloudy sky. "Terrible things. Your niece- Yellow, was it?- she doesn't seem to be. . . the type to know this, does she?"

Uncle Wilton chuckled. Yellow closed her eyes slowly and let out the breathed air in the same way. The type to know what? What was so terrible that made Barty act serious. . . ? Or was he only joking? Could be, could be. . .

"Know what?" said Uncle Wilton, his playful tone dropping, biting his toothpick. Barty seemed to hesitate about telling him, then he turned his back on him, clicking his tongue like earlier.

"This isn't. . . ," Barty croaked, hesitating to say more. Shaking his head and sighing, he went on, ". . . the perfect place for children nor women, even if they're. . . acting like the other sex."

She saw, in the corner of her reluctant eye, that Uncle Wilton was looking, for the first time, apprehensive. Yellow saw her uncle's lump in the throat move up and go down. Uncle Wilton blinked several times, wiping sweat from the side of the front of his ear nervously, his teeth apparently gritted.

He clenched and unclenched his sweaty fists when he said, in a brittle voice, "What does that mean? A-are there others in this island?"

"Not technically," said Barty cryptically, though there was a presence of worry in his voice mixed with pity. Yellow squinted her eyes and spotted him furrowing his eyebrows at the cloudy sky, where not one bird has flown about approximately for weeks. Yellow's eyes were shining with tears as they looked up, forcing themselves not to blink. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, frowning, but didn't turn around to look at Uncle Wilton.

"Danger, it seems, is on its way," he said at last, still not looking at him. His gaze at the sky was more piercing than a knife itself: Yellow still hasn't seen them blink for a long time. She went back to Uncle Wilton, who was furtively taking quick glances from the sky to Barty's back. He walked away slowly with his shuffled feet, footprints in the sand after him.

"Wha- _danger_?" he repeated, shaking his head. Frustrated, he pulled off his beanie, as he always did whenever he was, and tried to catch up with Barty, who was on his way to the other side of the island. He waved his hands frantically for Barty to notice him left behind, running to keep up.

Yellow slid slowly, leaning on the wooden wall and let her thoughts convey her mind thoroughly, her fingers slipping and sliding to the floor, trembling. There was danger even here. Yet Yellow was more interested in what Barty said before that.

Yellow could feel her heart pounding inside her chest with utter attempt to break through. She clutched her chest with one hand and turned her back on the wall, not wanting to hear another word. She was more concentrated on the fact that they all seem to think she's homosexual. . .

This just. . . proves that she _might_ be lesbian. Her eyes filled with sudden tears as the thought ran through her like an icy knife; it pierced her heart so murderously. . . so venomously. . .

But then again, what was wrong with that, being lesbian? Yellow thought for a minute then sobbed. _Everything_ was wrong.

**Now**

". . . ain't it, Yellow?"

"What?" Yellow said absentmindedly. She realized that she was staring at the floor and was sitting there, her right foot on her left. She glanced at Gold then back at her feet then to Gold again, who was absorbed so much in the old, tattered book. She tried to pull herself together and replied, in her best casual voice, "Could you repeat it again, please?"

Gold rolled his eyes in a manner that made Yellow relieved somehow, because he looked as though it were typical and he was used to all this. She felt sheepish by not paying attention. . . though sheepishness wasn't needed. She shrunk a little.

"I said, Mirage Island is the best place a guy like me could fit in," he said, drooling. Yellow didn't need to ask anymore.

His eyes were out of focus and seemed to be at a blank when his imagination (Yellow suspected) zoomed into overdrive, getting somewhere like "Asskissers' Area", "Bounty of Beautiful Babes", "Contraceptive City", "Condom Condominiums", "Dainty Demons", "Explicit Economy", "Girls for Goats", "Horny Heaven", "Island of Intercourse", "Land of the Ladies", "Masturbate Mavens Metropolitan", or, even, she thought, "The Province of Prostitution" and "The Section of Sex".

. . .

Darn. Even _Yellow's mind _was affected by manliness. . . She was becoming lecherous by the minute.

"Hey, Yellow," said Gold, snapping her from her not-so-innocent thoughts. Yellow's face was burning. "Have you ever thought of men for once? With you? Alone in one bed?"

Yellow gaped.

"Wha-wha-wha-wha-wha-what made you s-s-s-say that?" Yellow stammered, not controlling herself from stuttering. Her face was going _that_ hot.

"Well, I've heard older guys in the bathroom say once that you looked _hot _in green," Gold whispered in her ear. Yellow's face grew impossibly hotter. She could feel herself sweating. Something inside her was heaving her down, pulling her to the underworld. "The time you _accidentally _**wore** _**Blue's supposed bikini **_in the _**public pool**_, 'member?"

Yellow winced. She felt herself going faint, and Gold was all a blur. . . Her head hurts. And so did her face from blushing. Her eyes darted from Gold's mischievous face to the wide-open book, frantic for change of subject. The painful memory still lingered inside her mind, repeating over and over. . . She'd never forgive Blue for that one.

She pulled herself together quietly, and replied unwillingly, in a very low whisper, in spite that she was trying to keep her voice casual, though Gold rolled his eyes at the same time, "O-of course I rem-remember." But then again, who wouldn't? She forced her heart to be quiet enough for Gold not to hear its going-ballistic beats.

Then, keeping it calm at last (her heart), she forced the painful words to come out of her mouth, rather nearly inaudible, "Gold. . . ? C-can I ask you a q-question?"

But that was it: _can_ she ask the question? Her eyes were going red as they always did whenever she gets nervous. Gold raised an eyebrow mischievously, smirking at Yellow with the utmost interest that Yellow had so frightened would return of the change of events. His eyes had squinted and there is only one meaning for that: there's no way of escape.

She forced herself to speak, but she just can't do it. She opened her mouth several times, closing them again and again several times, too, yet the only sound Gold could hear from her is the jittering of her teeth. Yellow closed her mouth again and blinked before opening it, looking disclosed.

Then, after a few seconds (about thirty), her voice became audible enough to be heard clearly, forcing the aching words out, "T'youthingamlesbian?"

"What the _hell_?"

Yellow closed her mouth, embarrassed, with her hands. She didn't say the right words. She gulped and scratched the back of her neck modestly, willing to try again, though wasn't as confident as before. She shoved off the hair flying in front of her face and pretended to clear her throat. Gold's smirk seemed to have been exchanged by a look of pure puzzlement and dubiousness.

"I'm- I'm sorry, Gold," she managed to croak. She shuffled her hands together sheepishly and felt that they were sweaty. Gold looked at her plainly. She drew back her breath and tried again, "I m-mean to say is that. . . Do you think I'm. . . lesbian?"

The words came out of Yellow's mouth so suddenly she seemed to not have kept track of things. She closed her mouth again and looked up for Gold's reaction on this; he was holding back silent laughs. Yellow smiled shyly, though something inside her was aiming a kick for Gold's face. This wasn't a good turnout at all.

Gold slapped himself two or ten times, sustaining the laughter, which had no reason to be hidden because it was so _obvious_, he tried to conceal from Yellow. Yellow shook her head miserably and turned to face the wall with utter embarrassment but what'd you expect, he's Gold. Although she's used to this, she just can't find a more sheepish moment for her to trust Gold. She made a sudden note to herself that if she would ever trust Gold again, she'd rather have a death sentence.

She heard Gold straighten himself in his seat position and clearing his throat once or twice, then grabbing Yellow by the shoulder. Yellow didn't dare look at his face, because she herself was feeling a bit sheepish. As his laughs and chuckles decreased into something like a whisper, he said between pants, still not letting go, "I'm-sorry-for-laughing."

_You should be._

Yellow sighed then turned back to Gold, a scowl plastered on her face. She bit her lip when Gold's eyes stared upward and his expression became gleeful again, and frowned. She clenched her sweaty fists and unclenched them over and over. This is serious. Why can't Gold just be serious for once. . .

Great. Now she's thinking like Chris. Her eyes moved from her lap to Gold's face; she winced at once: Gold's eyes were sparkling with tears and his mouth was curled into a deep frown and his eyebrows were high above their position making him look like a stray Growlithe. Yellow found this somewhat scary, since she'd known Gold all her life and he suddenly became this way. But after a while, her heart softened and she sighed deeply, looking down, her eyes closed.

"All right, I forgive you," she breathed, though her tone was explicitly reluctant. She opened her eyes and Gold's face was back to its natural creepy mask.

"So, you wanna know if I think you're lesbian, eh?" said Gold defiantly. Yellow stifled a nod. She just wasn't willing enough to do this. But she had to. Yellow looked down again, not wanting to show Gold her blushing face.

Her eyes moved upward and had seen that Gold was rubbing his finger below his nose, which was an odd habit Yellow considered long ago. She raised her head from bowing and turned to look at Gold, half-glancing at the ajar door.

"Yes," the words escaped from her mouth at last. "I do."

Gold bent his head and rolled his eyes, looking up at the wooden ceiling, scratching his chin as he did before, making him look like deep in thought, though Yellow doubted he was. She wanted to roll her eyes but that would just be kind of mean, so she forced her tempted eyes not to. She bit her lip for Gold's answer, waiting.

After seven seconds or so, he smiled and gave her a smirk, wagging his finger like Blue did whenever Yellow tends to worry about things. Did she use her two friends as similes the last few sentences? She imaged of all of them for a second then thought that if they would know what to do, she'd rather their advice than _Gold's_.

"Hmm," he said, pretending to worry, patting his own cheek. Yellow's heart missed a beat when he clicked his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head. ". . . you think you're a lesbian, hmm? . . . Let's see. . ."

Yellow waited for his answer, shuffling her hands uneasily. Every single movement of Gold made Yellow's eye twitch unbearably. She clenched her fists again and unclenched them nervously. She could feel herself tremble with. . . Was it cold?

To be quite honest, it _did_ feel as if there was a storm coming. She glanced at the window and instantly forgot about Gold: the clouds were everywhere, and the chill outside made her feel uneasy. Then a sudden idea crept inside her mind abruptly. Maybe if she would send out Kitty, they wouldn't need the wind outside. But it seemed as if the clouds won't leave until tomorrow. . .

"So I think you're mostly kinda boyish, but you're innocent and nice, so people'll have the impression that you _are_ a girl even with a hat, though you're really happy-go-lucky and childish, so there are a lotta guys out there who're immature-" Yellow forced herself not to roll her eyes while Gold went on, "-so that's about it- hang on- and you surf _and_ fish, but fishing isn't much of a guy habit, so it's pretty much unisexual, and- but you cry a lot. So all I'm saying from my judgment is that you're not a lesbian nor a girly girl. S'that all right?"

Yellow wanted to speak up about how _Pika_ was the one controlling the surfboard and not her, but then again, it was as much of length as riding a _Dodrio_. Then again, who was she to say? Yellow thought for a moment about Gold's judgment while scratching her chin.

"That's enough for today, we might as well sleep," said Gold without letting Yellow answer, clapping his hands together with a smirk in his face.

"Wha-wha-wha-" Yellow spluttered as she tried to grab Gold, but he was too quick for her. As soon as he bid goodbye to Yellow hurriedly, Yellow slid her legs on the floor, which creaked loudly, feebly, sighing. She bit her lip as Gold opened the door for her after him, whistling with his hands behind his back cheerfully. She clicked her tongue and looked down, grabbing her pokéball. It contained Chuchu. She was looking quite as happy as she did before they left.

She glanced at the wall clock worriedly. Her eyes widened as they landed upon the time: it was already 4 o'clock in the morning. She gaped at the wall clock and sighed. She glanced down again at Chuchu and raised an eyebrow as her pokémon tapped the glass furiously. Smiling weakly, Yellow pressed the button lazily and a red stream of light shot out of it.

Yellow was so close to the read stream of light she actually had to stare intently at her nose just to get a look at it. Unfortunately, Chuchu leapt out of the red light headfirst and knocked Yellow out.

"ACK!"

Yellow's vision went back in a few minutes and realized she was staring at the ceiling. She rubbed her nose to see if it was still working and searched the room for Chuchu: she was sitting on top of the book. Yellow furrowed her eyebrows to get a good look at it. Chuchu was nodding her head towards the book under her as Yellow walked over quietly to look down at the old book. It was. . . weird, if she looks at it this way. She knelt down and scooped up Chuchu and laid her on her lap, carrying the manuscript at elbow view. There were bizarre writings written on it which Yellow had guessed was Barty's work.

Yellow's left hand was absent-mindedly stroking Chuchu while her right hand was vaguely feeling its way on the page of the book. Speaking of the pages, they looked very old. The battered-out manuscript was already yellow with age. She was careful enough to touch it because it looked very close to be torn apart only by touch. Although it _was_ sensitive, Yellow couldn't help but notice that the old manuscript's pages were immensely rough.

She blinked several times before realizing Chuchu was still there. She winced a bit when she'd seen that she was already fast asleep, then sighed and returned to her reading. She flipped through the introduction and squinted her eyes: it had various drawings and sketches of people. . . Though she could only see it in the moonlight, she could still feel the tension creeping inside the room of the patterns drawn on the book.

There were several sketches of people, men mostly, and Yellow was itching to read the book. She half-glanced at the wide-open door Gold had left for her and began to think. She then stared down at her pokémon, Chuchu, who was yawning, finally waking up. She nuzzled her stomach (it tickled) and showed off her cute, sharp teeth, her ears twitching.

Yellow smiled feebly as her pokémon pounced off her arms and stared curiously at the book, raising its nose in the air, sniffing the scent of the manuscript which smelled like dust and paint mixed together. She sneezed in a cute manner that made Yellow giggle. She hugged her legs as she observed her pokémon, who was suspiciously eyeing the old, inked manuscript.

Yellow got up, reluctantly, then opened the ajar door a bit wider, which creaked loudly enough, and tiptoed, barefoot, to the kitchen, in the other room, where there were two beds (one occupied by Uncle Wilton, who was now snoring loudly, as usual) and the other by Gold. Yellow stopped to look at them both, raising her eyebrows with suspicion. How come _they_ got to sleep in the bed? She was, after all, a _girl_.

. . .

Though Gold might have thought it funny to leave Yellow sleeping in the carpet, the hypocrite. But it was better sleeping in a chair. Casting these thoughts away by shaking her head wearily, she continued to turn her back on them and sit on the table in the kitchen/bedroom, where a sandwich had lain on.

Yellow scooped it up from the plate, which had been, Yellow suspected, taped back together, and took a bite out of the sandwich with no hesitation and conscious whatsoever. Yellow was careful to even take a step since the floor was, after all, wooden and damp, which Yellow again suspected from the recent storms Barty had told them about a night ago. Her toes weren't as cold as they were before, which wasn't unfortunate at all, because she _had_ to, having to endure sleeping in this island a bit more. Though she didn't mind.

When she was about to return to the room, however, she'd seen an odd figure cross the room and, slowly, glancing toward her direction and, his eyes widening, winced with terror and aghast shock. Yellow half-bit the sandwich in her mouth, nearly gaping. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, and her brain seemed numb inside her skull as she stared, bewildered, at the stranger, whose arms were, which Yellow had spotted through the moonlight, gripping the written manuscript tightly to his chest.

Yellow hesitated, looking back at his pure sky-blue eyes, which widened with fear of being caught. Yellow fidgeted nervously- when she finished pausing to decide whether or not she was going to do it- after she snatched her pokéballs up from the floor.

"Wait- I wasn't- no!" the raspy voice called out, the written manuscript still held close above his chest, whereas Yellow had no choice but to throw out one of the pokéballs she was carrying anxiously. She hesitated once or twice again when she noticed a yellow-furred figure on the floor in the dim light there was emitted from the rays of the full moon, its brown eyes now slits.

"Chuchu!" she cried out, running towards her, absolutely forgetting about the man, who had his eyes glued on to her.

Before Yellow could do anything, Chuchu sped in her direction and tackled her on the floor.

"What the-? Chuchu, get down!"

Yellow was wrestling with her pokémon as the man came up to her, kneeling with a smile plastered on his face. For a second, Yellow thought she knew him. . . but . . . wasn't he away yesterday? His toothy grin faltered as Yellow came to this realization. Her voice, now inaudible through the approaching storm, cracked as she darted her eyes to his sullen face.

"Barty?"

_**A/N: This. . . didn't turn out the way I expected. Surprised myself, even. So. . . I'm sorry. It was an accident the way I turned Yellow out to be like this. Right, LESBIAN. Since when? Though I wonder why I made that way. And NO, I wasn't drunk when I typed this. What's more, Yellow turned out to be so out-of-character here! You can flame me all you want, I welcome you, even. Sigh. . . I'll be due in some days. But this isn't the climax yet! There will be more, and soon! But for now, I bid good-bye. . . SEE YA SOOOOOON! I'm already GRADUATING elementary! Isn't that great? With honors, too! Hope you guys have an awesome vacation! **_


	4. Sky Pillar

_**A/N: Hiya, readers! Just here to tell you I've made another chapter! Yeah, I know, it's a bit early, but I'm just so excited! And this is how I pictured it! Hope you at least review! I accept flames, since it's just my first story. But please, no more flames on my next stories, 'kay? Because this is the chapter before the climax :O! Happy holidays, guys! And again, I'm sorry for troubling you in the last chapter. **_

_**Yeah. . . I don't think this too comedic as well, but I had to put it, hadn't I? I mean, the category CAN'T be Adventure. . . Can it? There's not much adventure here, come to think of it, in my opinion. **_

_**Replies to Reviews: **_

_**Specialshipping19: Yes, yes I was. I was actually trying to make up another cool penname, but I can't think of any more but Innocent Amber Eyes (sweatdrops). And your friend was actually nice to comment =D I'm kinda torn between directing movies and story writing. . . And what a coincidence! Your friend has been commenting my youtube video when I've read your fanfics for months, almost a year now!**_

_**Vaporeon Love & Anonymous: I'm really sorry, but I can't do sexual fanfictions yet, I mean, I'm just twelve for crying out loud! But I'll definitely try to make Gold gay-like somehow in the later chapters, but not totally gay, just kinda sided-gay, because Gold won't be in the next incoming chapters T_T because this story centers Yellow, kind of. And to me, at least, perverts. . . don't seem to be gay-like, but I'll try!**_

_**Pikachu127: Glad you think so =D**_

_**Thanks to all of you who commented! Bless your souls! But I don't think that Yellow should be lesbian. . . 'cuz there's SPECIALSHIPPING! WHOOOOOO! What I mean is that she's just kinda boyish, but not as Sapphire is =P **_

_**And just so you know (did I type the title of my favorite song?), I read some of the OldRivalShipping fanfics and realized that Yellow was really OOC (Out Of Character) there. She isn't shy at all in the manga, is she? So I thought, for a change, that Yellow deserves to be in character, so, why not? **_

Fourth Chapter: Sky Pillar

Barty gazed down at Yellow, looking stern. Yellow could hear thunder outside roaring across the sea. She breathed heavily, watching her chest rise and sink unconsciously. She didn't know what to say if he found out that she read his written biography- he _did_ find out.

She didn't look up at him, afraid of what he might say to her. She sat up and hugged her knees, looking at the ground guiltily, involuntarily massaging Chuchu's head. So Chuchu was trying to stop her from doing something stupid so carelessly, huh. . . She nuzzled Yellow's hand and licked it in apology.

Yellow smiled feebly at the creature, trying to make a straight face; though she could see the look in Chuchu's eyes. She might have seen the slight crestfallen look on Yellow's innocent, pale face through the moonlight.

Yellow could feel a hand touch her shoulder: she looked up. The first thing she discerned from his pallid face was that he was sincere. She stood up to her full height (outgrowing Barty himself by two feet) and looked down at the old man, whose hands still clutched tightly on the book. His long beard was shining in the light emitted by the moon as though the white of the strands were silver. The moon-

She squinted her eyes to take a better look at the moon: it was wavering behind the clouds. Was the rain about to start? But it had just rained a few days before, how could it now?

She tried to take another step to take a look through the window she had hidden behind yesterday but flinched when Barty's crane had surprisingly hit the floor, which cracked loudly. Cringing, she took several steps back, but slipped when she stepped on the sandwich she had dropped earlier, panicking as she stumbled to get out of the room.

"_Where on earth did you get this? This was supposed to be hidden! I haven't been away for more than a night, and somebody takes advantage of it by stealing my stuff!_" Barty's voice roared louder than the thunder had.

Yellow could feel Chuchu hug her ankle when the old man shouted ill, beside himself, making Yellow wince, even audible through the rain beginning outside.

She tried to speak, but no sound came out of her mouth. She forced her mouth to stay closed until Barty stopped shouting: he was spitting saliva everywhere. Attempting to say something, even if it was inaudible through the hard _tap tap tap _of the rain, just to get Barty's attention, Yellow made a disparaging noise cross between what a bull makes and a truck horn loud enough for only them to hear, but making Chuchu flinch.

Yellow gulped nervously as Barty's voice lowered into something into less than a disquiet whisper of sputters, standing up awkwardly. She patted the dirt on her tee and looked down at Barty, feigning the fact that she wasn't already uncomfortable with the situation with success from the looks of Barty's disgruntled face, though he can't possibly know that her insides her jittering madly with a pulse of nervousness.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down at her feet, shuffling them, ignoring Chuchu. She scratched the back of her head, sighing, then looked down straight at Barty's eyes and said, "I didn't mean it, really, while you were gone, we had to do something for the-"

"_We_?" said Barty suddenly that Yellow immediately stopped talking from cringing, "Who said about a '_we'_?"

Yellow flinched again from hearing that same austere tone he had used earlier. She had _not _just brought Gold to the discussion, had she? She gulped again, nervously still, biting her tongue from saying any more stupid replies.

"M-my cousin and I. . . we- er, sneaked in here- I mean, _he_ sneaked in here- I was with him, but- I didn't exactly _sneak in_, but he talked me into it- And I- maybe it wasn't me, of course, perhaps Chuchu-"

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?" snapped Barty, tapping his crane on the wooden floor vigorously. "You mean to say you actually-"

There was lightning.

"-here without my-"

Yellow didn't hear the rest of the sentence from the loud thunder outside after an unwelcoming gust of wind had swept by the room.

"-permission?" Barty finished, not realizing his hair was already wet from the storm outside, making it look like a mop. Yellow could feel Chuchu's paws dig deeper into her skin as the storm continued roaring.

She darted her eyes from the window and back to Barty, hearing the whole hut creak and was surprised Gold and Uncle Wilton didn't hear anything. After all, Gold just slept right now, four hours after midnight.

Four hours after midnight. . . Yellow recalled it being already four o'clock in the morning. Yet hadn't Barty mentioned he'd be back in two days? It wasn't even _day_ yet. And, more importantly, what was Barty doing?

"Barty?" squeaked Yellow's dubious voice as she gazed into Barty's sullen face, now turning pale, with his now-wan blue eyes widening unusually big. Yellow's eyebrows furrowed. She glanced down at Chuchu; she looked concerned. Yellow took several steps toward him slowly, holding out a hand to him as he turned to look at the storm.

There it was- the thing he's searched for months- the reason why he never left the island.

He rushed outside the room, pushing Yellow from her feet as he did, clutching the manuscript tightly to his chest, excitement building from his whole body.

Yellow watched Barty _vamoose _from the room, looking overwrought with excitement and haste. She rubbed the back of her neck, groaning painfully. She glanced down at Chuchu, nodding, then recalling her to her pokéball with a smack.

She hastened to catch up, standing up from the wooden floor, wiping the dirt off her face and sprinting to Uncle Wilton's and Gold's room to snatch her bag, knowing full well that if she would be swept away again by the storm, she'd need her things: but she was also desperate to know what Barty was up to every night since they crash-landed in this place.

She snatched a few plastics of sandwich on the table and stuffed them in her bag hurriedly, scampering out of the room with rapidity, not forgetting her straw hat to protect her from the rain. . . along with Gold's goggles.

She snapped on the goggles just above the bridge of her nose and adjusted her belt bag along with her straw hat, bursting open the door of the hut with no hesitation, her teeth gritted and her fists bawled.

She took one last look at her Uncle Wilton, breathing slowly, then at Gold, giving them both flying kisses of good-bye, not knowing whether or not she would still be breathing after this whole fiasco. It was, after all, a storm. Then, without thinking, without giving them another cold look, she scuttled out of the hut, biting her tongue to prevent herself from turning back.

As she ran in the rain, her boots darted past several water puddles, splashing with noise, but they were nothing compared to the earsplitting blast of thunder every five seconds.

After running in the rain for a while now, she thought she caught a glimpse of something- or some_one_- dark and short dash between the bushes and the thick, dense forest surrounded by an almost ominous white fog. Without thinking about this for even a split-second, Yellow dashed into the forest, not looking back at the light which had bounded the whole forest floor with shadows.

She nearly slipped from the large puddle of rainwater when she spotted Barty just about to enter a huge black tower she hadn't seen before.

She narrowed her eyes for a better look: the tower was about two-hundred feet tall, reaching the thunderclouds even before the peak, where five-foot wide spikes had been hung at each of the tower's sides, which, Yellow had immediately recognized it with her uncommonly rare instincts, were horns of a unique clan of iron-dorsal Donphans, bladed and carved into the shape of a cone, then, either pasted to or had been drawn by magnetism, since they've been polished even by having been struck in several storms a week. It was a real wonder why the lightning can't strike the tower.

Yellow, now more determined than ever, forced herself to go in, more desperate than so because the storm had just poured down on them harder, sprinting against the mud and made her way to inside the open gate.

Clutching the brim of her hat tightly, preventing it from being swept away by the strong gust of wind that brushed against her direction, her wet bangs fluttering about in the rain as she darted past the puddle and slid to the cold, wet tower floor which consisted of rocks and stone to keep it up, along with a few shard and quartz fragments to build strength to the tower which was, apparently, effective aside from the fact that it looked beautiful from the interior, looking threatening in the exterior, having blades put up in the sides.

Yellow plopped down the cold stone floor, sighing, and pulling off Gold's goggles. She gasped for air whilst clutching Gold's goggles firmly, her clothes sopping wet. Her hair drenched with rainwater, she wiped the water dripping from her bangs trickling down to her chin, though her hair was so wet, it still continued to drip water.

She stared down at the floor, panting, completely forgetting about Barty. She gazed down at her own reflection from Gold's goggles, which returned Yellow's brown-amber eyes, wishing she could still see Gold's own. But she'll be back okay, won't she? After all this-

Yellow cringed. She thought she heard someone's voice shouting careless words from above the tower. She stood up and wheeled round, feeling a sudden quake erupt from the ground as the thunder roared once more; the tower was shaking. She quickly stood up and sprinted to the stairs, feeling that this was the work of Barty. Hoisting Gold's goggles inside her belt bag, a thought ran through her mind carelessly; _Who else was inside the tower besides themselves? _

Abruptly, Yellow stopped darting to the staircase; a cold shiver ran down Yellow's spine when the thought ran through her mind. Who _else_ was inside the tower besides themselves? She glanced around, half-hoping that the rain would stop for her to hear herself think- then the whole tower stopped trembling precipitously.

Yellow didn't need to be asked: she dashed to the broken staircase, taking the opportunity to get there before another tremor happens again.

It seems as if, to Yellow's newborn paranoia towards the staircase, every step she takes the tread cracks so much she thought, out of that same distrust towards the rungs, she was going to trample and fall down the last floor. Ignoring her obsessive suspicion, she watched as the ceiling of the first floor descend as she took several more strides to the second floor-

Yellow took one last, careful step on it and, suddenly overwhelmed by determination, ran to the other staircase as soon as she found it, panting, the wetness of her body suddenly turning dry from the shelter-

Crack.

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Yellow landed on the floor of the first storey, rubbing her back sorely. She massaged her head as she regained her senses- what happened up there? She opened her eyes and had seen rubble fall from the second storey up, where a huge hole had suddenly appeared. She glanced at everything around her: rubble and rock everywhere.

Great. She fell down a _sensitive_ floor- which was the ceiling of the first floor but the floor of the second storey, really confusing, actually. She rotated her head a bit, standing up and stretching her bones, thinking.

She looked up at the ceiling of the first floor- it slowly returned from pieces. Yellow looked at it dubiously, narrowing her eyes. Glancing down, she'd seen that the pieces of rock on the floor had sunk below the ground, almost melting away in eyesight, as if it had forced itself to vanish into the ground. . .

Yellow was merely fascinated by the sight, although time was ticking. Sooner or later, Gold and Uncle Wilton will wake up and-

She shook her head at the thought, chewing her lower lip. She had to act now. Yellow pulled herself together and nodded at the staircase, filching a pokéball from her belt, prodding the button in the middle by the thumb and threw it in the air-

A red light emerged from the ball, which was spinning in the air until Yellow, jumping high in the air, caught it, transforming into a shape of something massive: a beak had materialized from the red light, longer than half an arm, along with even longer legs, lengthier than two of humans, with sharp and pointed claws, but by the looks of it, used for dashing than hunt, and three heads appeared from three black necks, their eyes opening wide, and, finally, its large, orange body had taken shape below the heads and just above the legs- the newly recalled creature let out a roar and plucked its feathers, its voice echoing in the next few floors.

Yellow smiled. Dody snuggled its three heads against her two cheeks and her neck, making her giggle feebly. She patted his two heads as she nodded towards the third, smiling weakly.

"Dody," she whispered, almost surprised because of the stern silence that had overcame her all dawn. The rain poured down harder, Yellow noticed, but she didn't need to worry. "I need you."

Dody's heads perked right up and nodded aggressively, showing its determination to help Yellow. Yellow beamed cheerfully at Dody, massaging its two heads' chins, then, hoisting herself on his saddle on his back.

For a quick moment, Yellow felt a weird sensation explode inside her skin when she climbed up on Dody's back- perhaps they had never felt anything so warm in their life, Yellow guessed, because she was still apparently damped. Clutching the straps of Dody's saddle very tightly and seating herself comfortably- though Dody couldn't possibly know that all she wanted, for now, was warmth- and pointing at the staircase.

"Dody! We've got to get up to the last upper floor!" said Yellow as Dody began to stomp its feet on the ground, digging its claws in the ground, to gain speed. "We might have a heavier weighing span but if the floor ever crumbles accidentally- we could scamper before we fall."

Dody's feet kicked the ground so suddenly that Yellow was taken back (literally), her straw hat flying behind her, caught in her hair (also literally) as Dody ran like greased lightning whilst the thunder bawled (the whole sentence is literal).

Yellow, one hand clutching firmly on Dody's saddle strap, another hand trying to catch her straw hat during Dody was on his way to the second floor, was obviously having difficulty in driving Dody while he ran up the stairs: his back kept leaping Yellow couldn't hold on. When they finally reached the middle of the room, Yellow can't help but struggle uncontrollably and think worryingly while a thought pierced her mind absentmindedly: They had to hurry before something happens to Barty.

There; Dody's foot trampled on a cracked floor but didn't fall because of his incredible speed, but that was the least of Yellow's worries; she could hear something approaching them from behind, something huge and flying, and she could hear the wings flap wildly from the storey-

"Chuchu!" yelped Yellow, throwing a pokéball in the air, wheeling around, spotting an Altaria flying behind them, her face sober and tired from sleepiness, "Thunderbolt!"

Chuchu's cheek pouches ignited with electricity; and voltage shot out from her fur and tail, Yellow saw in the corner of her eye even as she was maneuvering Dody, who was already stomping halfway to the third floor-

She kicked Dody's foot slightly hard, making him stop automatically, jumping from Dody's back uneasily and ran over to Chuchu's aid, crying out after Chuchu was brandished by Altaria's cotton-like tail, squealing with pain, "Chuchu! Thunder!"

The words escaped from her mouth before she could stop herself; Chuchu leaped from the ground, kicking her feet and hanging in the air, letting out a weak and feeble squeak, electricity shooting in all directions from her petite body which was so _shocking_, Yellow had to jump back and shield herself, and watch it all in horror-

Soon enough, when Chuchu's screech subsided into pants, Yellow had lowered her hands from herself, gritting her teeth apprehensively, afraid to open her eyes from the sight. She saw that Chuchu was hurt, badly, and tried to get to her but remembered that there were still nearly crumbled stone floor pavements and they will surely fall. She gulped.

Her eyes moved from Chuchu's fainting figure to the half-dead Altaria lying on the floor, spent, but alive. Yellow felt her own chest rise and drop gradually, even though her heart was thumping wildly in her chest chambers, trying to get out.

She hesitated on moving from her position, slightly frazzled, biting her quivering lower lip to make it stop. She could feel herself tremble terribly from uncertainty, though she had to act before something bad happens.

Yellow suddenly had an idea. But it would cost her. Outside, she could hear the storm's thunder rumble noisily. . . She glanced at Dody, nodding, when she heard Barty's raspy voice echo in the whole tower, making it shake violently again.

"Yaaaaguuuuuwwaaaaaaaggghhh!" she stuttered, feeling herself tremble as the tower did, gripping on to Dody's ankle firmly. Her eyes still glued on to the two pokémon lying unconsciously on the floor, hopeless: she couldn't possibly concentrate clearly with this going on.

Yellow closed her eyes and bit her tongue, hand still clutched on to Dody's ankle, now more tensely, focusing. . . White light. . . Chuchu. . . must get her to safety. . . She must be here. . . here in Yellow's arms. . .

Although Yellow didn't see it, having her eyes closed shut, a mysterious light engulfed Chuchu, who was seven meters away from Yellow, and soon enough surrounded both Altaria and her, and they both began to move jerkily.

Chuchu's left ear gave a sudden twitch when rubbles were falling from the ceiling of the storey; Dody made a quick movement but stopped himself immediately when the two fainted pokémon made their way towards Yellow, dodging every rock crumbling from the third floor- barely.

Both Altaria and Chuchu, the two of them floating in midair weirdly, their heads hanging in a bizarre manner, not even realizing they were doing anything, were nothing but disturbing to Dody, whose beak had hung open: he had never seen his master do that. Sure, he sees she could heal pokémon but this. . . this is just plain grotesque to watch.

Yellow's eyes flashed open when the tremor stopped and by feeling Chuchu's fur brush against her hair. She'd broken her concentration and had recalled Chuchu to her ball automatically.

She noticed the weird look on Dody's faces and said, with mock heatedness, "What? Oh, come on. Just because you've never been able to do that inside a pokéball attached to my fishing rod doesn't mean that you won't believe Ratty."

Dody looked dumbfounded thrice more, judging by his looks. Yellow's smile changed into a serious frown- not wasting time, then, turning to Altaria's mangled body, she spread her fingers and placed a gentle hand on top of its head, breathing heavily.

She could feel her energy being sapped from her. . . She'd never felt so weak her entire life. . . So weak. . . So. . . vulnerable. . . She couldn't help but sleep. . .

Yellow yelped when she felt something bite her cheek affectionately; the Altaria was cuddling her face warmly. Yellow beamed back, patting its head and getting up the saddle, though preventing her yawn to escape, she said, "Just be careful, 'kay?"

Altaria nodded and flew down the lower staircase going down to the first floor, free. Yellow watched as its blue tail disappear to the lower floor furtively, her hands tightly gripping to Dody's saddle, then Dody kicked off the ground and proceeded to the third floor. Yellow had just realized something and bent over to open her bag at the time Dody had already reached the stairs of the third floor. She sprayed something noxious around herself and Dody, who was trying hard not to get distracted.

Yellow instantly read his thoughts much to Dody's disdain, bending over to look at Dody's supposed-focused faces, "It's not what you think- it's just Max Repel, see?"

When she tried to hold out her hand to Dody's head nearest to her, he jerked his head away and tackled it against its middle head, making it squawk with contempt as the only remaining peaceful head maneuvered them, which Yellow thought of as worth a laugh.

"Have a laugh sometimes, Dody," she said, after a pause, lying her back and relaxing, forgetting about her worries, careful not to hit her head on the ceiling of the 27th floor.

"You're always serious-" she added suddenly after another silence, then carelessly hit her head when she sat bolt upright. "Ow!"

Dody's heads made a shrill cry of what seemed to be, in pokémon language, laughter. Yellow's eyes stifled warm tears and realized that she was already dry by looking at a cracked hole in the wall of the 46th floor. . .

It was still dark, so it must still be four-thirty at the least or a quarter to five. . . She mopped her tears with her sleeve and pondered a bit about Gold and Uncle Wilton. . . Gold's eyes were what Yellow had missed since she had left the hut unattended, but she could've just told him. . . And Uncle Wilton. . .

Something unnerving moved jerkily inside Yellow's stomach. What would he do to her when they- _if_ they found out? Would he get mad like he always does to Gold? At times when he was mad she could just comfort him with her sweet, innocent, brown-amber eyes, making him feel better. Gold. . . He was a special case. Yellow giggled softly when she reminisced Gold's acts towards their uncle. Gold was always the perverse type, but they never did know whom he had gotten his perverseness- and no one probably will, because it's one of the wonders of the world that remained to be out of everyone's curiosity. His crush towards Blue and Chris seemed to develop into something bigger. . . And Yellow's mind didn't dare delve that deep. But she wonders (out of innocent curiosity) what he does with Silver? They always walk down the road from school together, share battles together, and even tried to sneak into Blue's bathroom together (Silver was extremely flustered). But was there something else? Something she didn't even realize yet? Something that only Crystal knows? She was, after all, always with them, being peers and all, but wasn't Gold a pervert? Wasn't he already attracted to the female?

Something had made Yellow giggle mysteriously. _Men_, she thought. She wonders again, delving deep into her memories. . . Sapphire was a complete tomboy whom no one should ever mess with; Ruby was some kind of mixed-up flop who goes with anything associated with fashion. . . Yellow shuddered at the thought. He actually tried to dress her up with short skirts in her room and a top and everything, he was the one who even made hairstyles for her on sixth grade in graduation, placing heavy make-up in her face completely so that when she looked at the mirror, she won't recognize herself.

Gold didn't, too- his mouth had dropped to the ground when he took one look at Yellow. And he was like, "WHAT THE HELL?". Yellow cast Ruby a weird look dubiously. She looked at the mirror and saw her reflection: her hair was dyed with _brown_. Brown. Brown. Brown. Brown. Brown!

Yellow giggled at the memory, then sat up and began to drive Dody again, regaining her strength.

...

It seemed like forever when they finally reached the floor closest to the peak, though it had only been twenty minutes; as Dody's foot stomped on the last step of the stairs to the 199th floor, Yellow breathed, "_It's five fifteen_."

Dody nodded, then continued to jump over small boulders, showing signs of tiredness. Yellow jerked the straps of the saddle a bit, indicating that they should stop- Dody rested at the foot of the stairs of the last floor to the peak of the tower: Yellow could already hear the thunder crashing, and somebody shouting above and a loud sound that appeared to be how the earth trembles when a tremor occurs; but there were no signs that there was one.

Gulping nervously, Yellow jumped off Dody reluctantly, and recalled him to his pokéball, saying, "Thanks, Dody. You've done well today."

Then, turning to the stairs, she took one step and was utterly surprised that it didn't crumble like the previous ones had. Helping herself to get up there with curiosity and determination, she ran up the stairs, excitement pounding inside her chest, feeling her brain heave her head down even though she was walking up the stairs. . .

When she stepped on the very last tread of the staircase, she gasped in horror: the clouds were centering the tower itself, where Yellow had seen lightning appear every second, flashing with great light, rain still pouring wildly everywhere and showing no sign of stopping soon. The dark clouds seemed to be keeping distance from a lone figure at the centre of the peak; Barty.

"B-Barty!" Yellow shrieked, clutching on to her straw hat tightly, making her way to him against the gusts' direction. He ignored her, shouting still.

"Oh, Mirage Island, whose whereabouts remain unknown, whose path has been banished from the seeking eyes of mankind. . . Appear before me now!"

Yellow narrowed her eyes; it was definitely Barty, but why was he summoning Mirage Island? Hasn't that island, Yellow had recalled Gold say that earlier, been sighted and been lost once again? What was so special about it that some people have to search hard for it?

"B-Barty!" she called again, now much louder, afraid that if he can't hear her, she would walk closer to him- it was worse already that she was out in the rain-

Rain. _Rain_. What rain? She could _hear_ the rain, but she couldn't feel it. . . She looked up- horror flushed her face red as she watched a huge island- even huger than this island- float above the tower.

She suddenly recalled that there were rumblings around the tower earlier; was this what caused it? Nothing but shock had taken over Yellow's mind. _There was an island above her, nothing wrong with that, right? It's just an island, RIGHT? It's not like I'm gonna get crushed below it! This is just a dream, right? RIGHT?_

But it wasn't. It was real. It was in front of her- no, _on top _of her. Yellow could even feel the weird atmosphere the huge island had brought around the tower, making it fall silent so suddenly, even Barty turned around to look-

"What are you doing here, young lady?" he demanded tensely, horror Yellow had never seen flush his face. "You shouldn't be here! _It's_ coming! _They're _coming! They're going to take you!"

"W-what?" said Yellow stupidly, not catching a word he said. She got swept by the wind and was suddenly in front of Barty, who was looking nothing but windswept and ballistic, so ballistic that it made Yellow wince when he raised his voice again.

"You shouldn't have followed! M-Mirage Island. . . approaches!" he said in a rigid voice, gripping Yellow's shoulder, who had, in turn, gone as hoarse as he had. His once blue, slightly bloodshot eyes were now bulging slits.

"Ap. . . Approaches?" Yellow repeated carelessly, stuttering. Next thing she knew, she was being dragged by Barty to the staircase on his orders, which she followed reluctantly. Suddenly, something blasted in the middle of the now-crumbled roof of the tower halfway to the stairs.

Yellow had seen Barty shield himself of the sand and dust flying in the air as she just closed her eyes from the dust particles, seeing a dark, large figure in the thunder-and-rain-mixed-with-sand-storm closing in on her. . . And everything went black, the last thing she heard was Barty shouting.

...

"D'you think he'll be okay?" said a voice Yellow didn't recognize. She felt her head throb, wanting to massage it with her hand, but she can't even feel it. Her curiosity was overtaking her body, but didn't dare open her eyes. His voice sounded worried, as if he was concerned of Yellow. They thought she was a boy.

"Wait a while, Red, you're so impatient," said another male voice from the other side of Yellow. She could feel her face blush because there were two teenage boys at either side of her bed, Yellow suspected, looking after her.

She heard the boy named Red's voice grow louder, "I am not impatient!"

"Shut up, he'll wake up," said the other voice calmly, placing a hand over Yellow's forehead; she could feel heat rise up to her face and radiate throughout her body and was surprised they weren't feeling hot. He clicked his tongue sympathetically. "He'll be awake soon, by the looks of it."

She felt a huge breath brush against her hair, smelling his breath; it wasn't unpleasant, to be honest, but it wasn't delightful either, although Yellow couldn't get any flustered than now.

She opened her eyes, pretending she'd just waken, careful not to accidentally drop her straw hat, she blinked and sat upright, looking at each of their faces.

It seemed as if Red was the one with the crimson eyes, obviously. She raised her eyebrows out of curiosity, wanting to deepen her gaze into his eyes: they were shining with concern and relief, he was concerned for her. . . She tried not to blush, with great success, and looked at his other features; he was strapping, broadshouldered, and well-built, judging by his muscular arms, which Yellow attempted to avoid staring at; his hair was messed up, standing up in all directions, and Yellow had guessed that he had never combed his hair. His skin wasn't tan, but it wasn't pale, either, they were just normal with a tinge of light-pink. He was smiling down at her welcomingly. She felt her face burn.

Then she examined the other boy, who was beginning to sit upright (Yellow had now known she wasn't on bed, but on a thick blanket used in beaches), his emerald-green eyes locked on to hers. He quickly glanced away, in what Yellow thought was embarrassment, so that Yellow was left to look at his other features, careful not to stare at anywhere near the chest. He wasn't as well-built was Red was, but he did seem to apparently work out every other day. The boy's height was a few inches taller than Red's, so he must be really tall, because Yellow had guessed that, from the deepness of Red's voice, they all must be tall and big for their age.

"Who're you?" she asked, her voice cracking, trying to sound as manly as possible. Puberty was already ahead of her. At a split second, Yellow recalled everything that happened. . . She lied down the blanket again, rubbing her head; she had several bruises already, she could feel it, but she just ignored them for God's sake. Where the _hell _was she? She knew she'd be swept away again- just not at this time and here . . .She was standing on top of the tower. . . Barty was summoning Mirage Island. Something odd squirmed inside her: Mirage Island was _on top _of her. It wasn't a dream. It can't be. Then there was this storm

"I'm Red," said Red, interrupting Yellow from her sudden thoughts, extending a friendly hand to her, beaming. Yellow took it and shook hands with him, much to her sheer embarrassment. The other boy, who was just standing there, watching, raised his eyebrows at Yellow, looking curious. Yellow shook her head, she must be seeing things.

She stood up to her full height (noticing that Red and the other boy were really, very tall, excluding the fact she was kind of short), and held out a hand in the same manner Red had. Yellow had seen that the boy looked slightly surprised, then he shook it, barely smiling, saying in a flat tone, "Green."

"Eh? What's green?" said Yellow, looking around; she saw Red was hiding his urge to laugh loudly, covering his hand over his mouth, though Yellow didn't know why. She turned back to the boy, who was slapping his forehead repeatedly.

He walked over to Red's side and slapped his back, making him wince on the floor. Yellow noticed that he wasn't very nice to Red at all, and vice versa, seeing him shout out to Red, who was still laughing silently, by the looks of it, "You would feel this way too if you've got my bastard of a grandfather naming you _Green_!"

Yellow couldn't help but feel sorry for the two, but she felt a huge wave of amusement surround their awkward atmosphere. Then she can't help but turn and look at the trees, the scenery; it looked as if she was in a forest. Another thought crept inside her mind. . .

"Where am I?" she asked the two wrestling boys, who didn't notice her until this point since, making them stop. Red pushed Green to the ground and turned to look at Yellow.

"You don't know?" he said, though clearly not surprised, judging by his tone. Yellow raised her eyebrows; was she _supposed _to know? "I'll be surprised if you do."

Green stood up as well, patting the dirt on his clothes, glaring murderously at Red, then turned to Yellow, replying coolly, "I'll be, too. Mirage Island only comes to that island they took you off from once a month."

_**A/N: Thanks for taking time to read! I owe no one but old Barty, and this fanfiction idea! I'm sorry I made this kind of short, but my sister and brother were arguing nearby and I can't concentrate! I, being the peaceful one, ignored them. They always do this. Oh well! Please review to let me know what you think! But, yep, I know, the chapter title says, "Sky Pillar" even though there isn't any mention of it in the chapter. But Sky Pillar is the "tower" Yellow referred to. **_


	5. Red, Green and Yellow

**A/N: Believe me, I worked on this a few hours after I published the last chapter. So I had a lot of time, so what? I like doing this! Actually, I was just about to start making a map for leaving hints on where I put my siblings' DS and SP. It's a game, see? Like treasure hunt, but in a bigger place (smirks). Our house is big enough for hiding millions of things, and we even forget where we put them. I did that because they were fighting earlier. BUT enough of that, I'm gonna write some more if I wanna keep on going! P.S. Thanks for the reviews, guys! And thanks a whole lot for taking your time reading this. . . It makes me so happy! =D**

_**Response to Reviews: **_

_**Specialshipping19: Thanks! =D**_

_**Vaporeon love: (blush) That means a lot! Of course, well, being younger has its privileges. Imagination is what children have that others who had forgotten to believe haven't. To be young is to be free of worries, to grow old: it doesn't last, because they find their way back to being a child again, soon =D My paternal grandpa was very poetic, full of imagination, and my maternal grandma always reminded me that you could do anything if you just believe. So far, nothing's gone wrong =D**_

_**I really do hope you appreciate the work I'm giving for this story, you know. Because it's summer vacation and the bonding time with my friends and family has been- well- decreased. But you guys are considered as my friends too! So I'll have to work extra hard! I don't wanna disappoint anybody! But Yellow's been really sapped out of her character lately here. . . I hope she isn't too OOC! **_

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything unless you count Barty. No Copyright intended. Though I do own this story =D**_

Fifth Chapter: Red, Green, and Yellow

"M-Mirage. . . Island?" repeated Yellow nervously, her voice cracking as she moved her eyes from Green's face to Red's. Green raised his eyebrows suspiciously; Red, however, looked at her innocently.

"Yeah. . . ?" said Red, waiting to hear some more. He crossed his arms behind his back, hoping to hear more from Yellow, staring down at her face, her eyes. Then his expression became hesitant.

Yellow could feel goose bumps erupt down her neck from Red's apparent suspicion. She tried to look away from him but she just can't, so the best option was to act like she didn't know anything- though she only _thought_ she acted, because it was completely true she didn't know anything right now, "Wha- how did I get- get here?"

"You should have asked earlier," replied Green, moving away from Yellow's face, straightening himself. Yellow had seen that he had more difficulty in speaking to her than to Red. "when you awoke. You were unconscious since yesterday; that's seven times in the real world-"

"_What_?" Yellow yelled, turning her attention to Green with utter surprise. Seven times in the. . . ? Exactly _what_ was going on? "What do you mean, seven times in the real world?"

Red shook his head wearily, shaded his eyes from the sunlight and turned to Yellow with a kind of fleeting look. "We're in Mirage Island," he said, nodding importantly, raising a finger, which made Green raise his eyebrows and his expression became a look of disbelief, "we're not in that island nor in the world which is separate from this one, having dislodged times and hours that makes them distant, exactly why this doesn't have the same time the other world does, because of the space they have between them. But their time will connect back to the same period of that world, having the handiness to return back to its original time and space, for this island had been banished from the other one- and the reason is beyond our knowledge and understanding- which also means that they are in the exact same minute, precise second-"

"Like yesterday," interrupted Green, placing a hand on Red's shoulder, to which extent Red brushed it off with complete disgust at which Green rolled his eyes.

"Y-yesterday?" Yellow repeated, yelping. She had the basis of fact, but why and how? Wait. If the time in Mirage Island is slower than in Hoenn due to time and space, then. . . She'd been unconscious for a_ week_? "I've been unconscious for a _week_?"

Red nodded slowly, not getting why she was overreacting. Green just sighed in defeat. Yellow was beginning to feel panic run through her whole body, feeling the noxious wave of idiocy and sheepishness. Then- then what happened to Barty? She'd guessed that he ran from the roof of the tower down to the first floor and back the hut just to warn Gold and Uncle Wilton-

Something huge and unpleasant lurched inside Yellow's stomach, something that hadn't been there a while; Gold and Uncle Wilton. . . They must be worried sick. Yellow realized she was looking down her feet and guessed that she looked too suspicious, not to mention the fact that they thought she was a boy.

"Hey," Red said, interrupting Yellow from her thoughts instantly. She raised her head, moving her eyes to his face; he seemed to be in quite a quirky mood. He scratched the back of his neck- something Yellow had reminded someone of, though she can't remember it. "you didn't tell us your name."

Stupidity and idiocy had taken over her body: her stomach wiggled in her body uneasily, as if trying to wriggle itself out with pain. Despite her discomfort, she opened her mouth to say something. . . but no sound came out, out of sheer sheepishness and embarrassment. She opened and clamped it a fair few times before she said, extending a hand, "Amarillo del Bosque Verde."

Red raised his brow, extending his hand out to hers, a smile forming his face. Yellow smiled back at him warmly, though her heart was beating with faint and soft murmurs. "Crimson, Redmond Crimson. Nice to meet you, Amarillo."

Yellow's swelled-up brain heaved her down the floor mentally at the sound of her name. She pulled herself together, the corner of her lips twitching involuntarily as she said, waving her hand lazily, her other hand massaging her head, "No, no, not Amarillo. _Please_, no. I'm not used to _that_,not at all. Just call me Yellow, it's Spanish for Yellow, see?"

Red, looking surprised, tried to patch up to what he said. "Oh, is it-? I'm so sorry, really, I am-!"

"Nip it, Red," snapped Green. Yellow's doting eyes had turned tranquil from Green's abrupt interruption. For a moment, she thought Green had seen something inside them, something almost disturbing. Yellow didn't blink even once, but she furrowed her brows uncertainly. She saw his eyes move away from hers and his met Red's, saying exasperatedly, "This is such a waste of time, we'll have to go now, Grandpa would like to talk to him."

Yellow shifted her eyes from Red's face to Green's in confusion, her jaw hanging. "What-? Green-"

"No, we'll have to go," he said, grabbing Yellow's arm (she instantly fell silent and didn't say another word), gesturing Red to follow, nodding his head briefly to the top of a hill infested with trees. "We've introduced each other already, let's not try to explain now."

Red nodded in agreement, though Yellow can't help but notice that he'd looked somewhat reluctant. Having no choice at all, what with Green grabbing her arm and all, she followed Green, her head still facing behind, trying to pick up her pace by running backward. She passed by several people, all staring at her weirdly, all in uniforms. Then she realized something.

"Why are you guys still wearing uniforms, Green?" she asked, glancing at Green's face with discomfort, also seeing Red catching up with them, at his speediest. She was panting now, still facing behind as she can't help it. At first, she thought Green wouldn't reply, but after a pause, he replied. It was then that Yellow became conscious that he, Green, was serious and taciturn, rarely speaking with emotion. Red, on the other hand, was lively and talkative, always talking with spirit.

"School classes were dismissed an hour ago," he replied shortly, not even looking at Yellow, though his grip on her hand was loosing its tightness, much to Yellow's relief and comfort. "we hadn't changed yet, what with watching you the whole hour."

"So does that mean you guys were trying to wake me up for seven hours?" she joked, trying to make him smile for once. Much to her success, he did, but only weakly. She smiled back warmly, but Green just turned away quickly, making her heart feel heavy.

Suddenly, Green stopped and let Yellow's hand go, making her collapse on the ground. Hard. Yellow stumbled to sit up, rubbing her cheek sorely.

"Ouch, Green, what was that for?" she asked, looking up at him, expecting him to help her get up, but it was Red who did: he extended his hand to her, looking apologetic.

"Sorry, he does that sometimes, here," he bowed down to reach Yellow's height, his other hand supporting his body, set on his knee, smiling sincerely.

A little taken back, Yellow nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving his grinning face. His smile was the goofiest she'd seen, but they were sincere, and he'd been amiable to her since. She took his hand with gratitude, pulling herself up, muttering, "Thanks."

"No problem, bro," he said, hitting her on the back vigorously. She winced silently, rubbing her back, smiling with regret. Perhaps it _wasn't_ such a good idea to thank him in that brotherly way, the clueless idiot, he still thinks she's a boy. Something cold crept down her spine and she adjusted her hat apprehensively. They weren't _that_ close, anyway, so why was she feeling this way?

"Hey, you two," said Green sharply, his emerald-green eyes glaring dauntingly at Red, almost as if they were about to murder each other. He was standing in front of a great, big, black gate, one hand deep in his pocket and one holding a key the size of an apple, pointing it at a keyhole, his brown hair sticking in all sorts of places, making him look intimidating as they shaded his eyes with shadows, though not as spiky as Red's was. "this is it."

"Yeah," said Red, approaching Green's side, gesturing Yellow to follow. "weren't we here just an hour ago before your grandpa told us to look after _someone_ in Ample Plains for just a few hours? And it ended up being just one?"

"Ample Plains?" asked Yellow curiously, coming from behind Red. She poked her head between his and Green's shoulders, hoping they would notice her down there, standing in tiptoes. She straightened herself, looking up at the both of them, hoping for their answer. She suddenly noticed how tall they were, and wondered how old they were.

"Eh?" said Red, turning around, looking down at Yellow, who was about a head taller than her. Yellow had to crack her neck just to look at him; painfully. "Ample Plains is the place you were unconscious in, where you- hey, you haven't told us how you got here yet, have you?"

Yellow's eyes flashed with memories in replay. There was the storm, and Mirage Island was on top of her, she freaked out and tried to persuade Barty to come down from there while he persuaded her to get away from there as well. . . He was summoning Mirage Island, she knew it. He needed something done here, once and for all. Or he needed some_one_ here. . . But he mentioned days ago that young ladies aren't supposed to be there, be on that island. . . said it was too dangerous. Maybe he really did need someone here after all, because he knew this was dangerous and he can't have warned her if he didn't, so someone he knew must've been swept away by the same man- or someone else in league with that man- had Yellow. . . But why did he place her somewhere he knew that ought to catch attention of the people here on this island?

"The Access's opened, come on," said Green under his breath, turning to both Red and Yellow, then noticed their expressions. "What?"

"I've asked him how he got here, Green," said Red quietly, his eyes shifting from one passerby to another, staring at them weirdly before continuing their walk somewhere at the end of the street. "he-"

"He can wait, can't you, Yellow?" said Green, turning to Yellow impatiently. Yellow winced at being called that name and looked at them, startled, forgetting that they thought she was a boy. Before she could say anything, however, Green rounded on Red and said, "What I thought. He could tell Grandpa this and after that he could repeat to us."

"But-" Red began, sputtering, his rage building.

"Talk later, let's go in, guys," said Green sharply, knowing full well that Red was just about to explode, pulling out his vest attire on and walked in the school grounds ahead of them.

"That idiot of a bastard," said Red darkly, unzipping his backpack. Then, pulling out his long-sleeved, v-neck sweater, he pulled it down his elbow-high sleeved attire and adjusted his necktie violently, so that it hung about. He turned to Yellow, his murderous expression softening, then took her hand (Yellow blushed unconsciously).

"Let's go, before someone catches us," he said after seeing several peers of teenage boys pass by the street. Having no choice as usual, Yellow followed him inside, not saying another word, knowing that he might explode at the last second if she did. As they entered the gate, Yellow remembered something she forgot to ask earlier after Red locked the gate shut with the same key Green had.

"Why does Green call the gate the Access?" she asked out of curiosity, watching Red stow away the key into his attire's pocket with sudden interest. Red looked at her with a weird look on his face, burying his hands in his pockets.

"How did you get here?"

"You haven't answered my question," Yellow retorted before she could stop herself. She caught herself in surprise as well, not knowing what had come over her that made her say that. Maybe it was because she hadn't spoken in a while. Surprisingly, to Yellow's utter astonishment, Red disregarded her rudeness and clicked his tongue in defeat.

"Ah," he said simply, so surprisingly that Yellow couldn't even believe it. She'd just been rude to him, and they barely knew each other. An abrupt realization swelled inside Yellow's body; she barely knew _anyone_ the past few days. . . She missed Gold and Uncle Wilton, missed how she treated them the way the treated her. . . And now she suddenly became rude to a person she's just met, some first impression. But why the _hell_ is he looking sheepish, let alone smiling? "You got me there."

"I'm so-!" Yellow began, but Red was already replying.

"It's a term we call our gates," he said reminiscently, looking at the fresh, mown grass they were standing on. "we started calling it that when we were, like, seven, when the school announced that we need to get codenames for something. We even call our dorms Fraternities."

A giggle escaped from Yellow's mouth involuntarily. Red rolled his eyes, adjusting his necktie again, straightening it. "Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want."

"I'm- I'm sorry," she said sincerely, stopping immediately, though hiccupping. Red turned to face her, his face exasperated, though to Yellow, he had never looked too unlike himself, compared to Green. She noticed that he was staring at her face and she jerked a few curls of her bangs behind her ears sheepishly, blushing. "Shall- shall we get going then, Red?"

"Yeah, I think we should, too," he said, looking over Yellow's shoulder. Curious, Yellow tried to glance over at where Red was looking at but before she could act, Red grabbed her hand and sprinted to the entrance of the school-

"_Oh my God_. . ."

The school was so _huge_. _The _school was so huge. The _school_ was so huge. The school was _so_ huge.

She could feel her whole body wobble with nervousness as she cracked her neck just to look at the school, her sight not eyes not big enough to even fit the half of its height and width: all she could see was the half the whole building itself, her neck not able to withstand from much pain of cracking whilst she looked up.

The entrance itself was bigger than her whole house, its walls even thicker than the width of her house's own kitchen, and that was only the _entrance_, the _damn _entrance. The length of the entrance itself was longer than three times her house was, and it looked as if it were as high as a building itself, having about a fair few storeys high, but it was not even a quarter of the size of the entire school: the entrance was by far bigger than the Access, yet its stone walls were security enough, it couldn't looked more easier to enter it, in Yellow's opinion, spotting a keyhole (which must have been big, because if it wasn't, Yellow wouldn't have seen it from so far) near the way in, where, it appeared to be, no less than an ordinary entrance way, it's just huge.

Yellow only had a few seconds to marvel its entrance, not even daring to crane her neck even further by finding out how big the walls of the school were, almost impatient to find out what it feels like to be inside it, because she and Red had already gotten there: Red skipped a few steps to the entrance of the way in, leaving Yellow to run the thirty steps gasping for breath.

She collapsed on the last step of the white, stone staircase, clutching her chest for breath, panting wildly, her breathing fast. She knelt down the floor, then turned over, and _then _collapsed, her head hitting the floor, though she could care less. She whirled around, seeing Red inserting the huge key with difficulty and seized the opportunity to take her straw hat off, fanning herself.

"How are we going to get to Green's grandfather?" she asked, wiping the sweat on her forehead trickling down her nose with her sleeve, fixing her unruly bangs with her hands, her breathing still fast, and sitting up. She watched Red as he attempted to unlock the entrance to the school with the key, but was unsuccessful, much to her relief, because she'll be needing much more time to adjust her straw hat, making sure that not even a single strand of hair is out of place.

"Goddammit," he muttered darkly, his cut finger bleeding. He pulled out his handkerchief and wrapped it around his wounded finger, cursing under his breath with swearwords. As soon as Yellow had finished adjusting her hat, she strode over to Red's side, looking curious, not even letting him know she was behind him, though he already knew full well.

"What?" he said, turning round to face Yellow with a sort of cold look. Yellow guessed that he'd cut himself, noticing that Red had dug his hand with the handkerchief wrapped round the cut finger rather crudely. He looked apprehensive.

"You've cut yourself," Yellow stated quietly, though she knew Red knew it was so obvious, pointing at Red's hand buried deep in his pocket. He looked at her in defeat, though there was still some dignity in him left.

"Yeah," he said, pulling out his hand from his pocket. "so?"

"So you don't know how to wrap your finger," said Yellow triumphantly, nodding her head at his hand, her hands in her hips. Red seemed to have been drained from all his remaining dignity and sighed.

"Right, I don't know how to, so what?" he said, not looking at Yellow, then he turned to her, sighing the second time. Yellow thought he was a bit conceited about everything he does, but he's just a nice guy.

"Do you want me to help?" she asked hopefully, though it was tactless. Yellow thought she felt something squirm inside her stomach that made her regret what she'd said- then, much to her involuntary relief, she heard something loudly unlock itself in an unidentified noise, and, despite it sounded so deep, it was more earsplitting than a Meowth's nail scratching a chalkboard.

Yellow took several steps backward, looking high up: the huge entrance gate to the school had several gigantic locks wedged at the huge building, unlocking themselves when Red, who had calmly stood by at the same corner, had inserted the key. Her foot almost slipped down the staircase as she craned her head just to look at the entrance gate unlock itself noisily: it was the most bizarre thing she'd ever seen since Gold had bolted from the girls' bathroom the last time she was at school.

The black locks, engraved in what seemed like black marble, definitely discoloring the whole school, because the entire school had been painted white, were weirdly unlocking themselves slowly, though she'd never understood how Green did this before they even got here and they hadn't even heard a single sound, not even bothering to leave this unlocked just for them. How could they not be freaked out by this? Perhaps they rarely even had to open the entrance to the building. She glanced over to Red, who had been gazing at the entrance as well, waiting impatiently for it to reach its seventh and final lock, still only reaching its fourth.

"I can't believe that idiot," murmured Red, his tone disbelieving but with a sort of fondness to it. "I thought he knew we were tagging along."

Yellow thought that this must be a sort of habit of his, talking to himself, because he definitely wasn't talking to her. And why should he? She shook her head, this must be from tiredness. This must be. She ran all the way here from Maple Plains- or whatever it was- and climbed 30 steps, she must be feeling a bit drowsy. . .

Then again, she was unconscious for a week, go figure.

Yellow then realized that she was unconsciously staring at Red and immediately turned away, blushing. She can't have developed much bigger feelings toward him than this, she can't have. She liked him entirely in a friendly way- hold on, did she just say she _liked_ him? This can't be happening, not to her. She's been stranded on two islands already and it still hasn't been a week, and she's noticed that she'd matured mentally over the past few days. . . Dammit.

So. . . So. . . So she already _knows_ she isn't lesbian, developing this kind of feeling- no, _friendly _feeling- toward a boy, so she could just hope she's still a virgin when she gets back to that island. . . No, she'll have to hope that they _won't_ figure out that she's a girl, that's better. So she'll have to keep the fact that she's a woman- no, _girl_- hidden. Better yet, she'll make _sure_ they won't.

"It's opened," she heard Red say. She glanced at him worriedly.

"Don't worry," he said, and Yellow's stomach did a back flip as he did, thinking he'd read her mind; she adjusted her hat secretly from behind her. . . "I may stay here but Green'll be with you. . . Unfortunately, members of the Board can't come in unless this is unlocked by a teacher so that they'll resume class."

It seemed as if Yellow's worry had sapped away from her. It also appeared as if he _thinks_ he could read her mind. . . Which was a huge relief to Yellow.

"I'm. . . I'm going there alone?" she croaked suddenly. "With _Green_?"

"He's actually one of the top members of the Board," Red said, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. "And you better hurry, because you know how Green is. And-" he added loudly, catching Yellow open her mouth apprehensively, "-I'm afraid I won't be seeing you again. Because unless they find a way to get you out of here this instant, you'll have to room in with some student at a certain dorm, which is unlikely that it'd be either me or Green. And. . . I guess that even if I ask you a million times you won't tell me how you really got here- I get it, really, it's none of my business and I don't have to know-"

"Red-"

"The Gateway's-"- Yellow knew this was another codename for the entrance- "opened, and it can't be helped. There are still students here- younger ones- and only the members of the Board can go inside whilst classes are still on. Now listen to me, I'm gonna go close this from the outside and unless I _will_ be appointed as a member of the Board at this exact moment, I'll be able to escort you inside. Bye!"

Yellow waved reluctantly at him as the Gateway's locks locked themselves, the door shutting in front of her, Red looking at her apologetically. Some realization had swelled inside Yellow's heart as Red bid her goodbye (though she felt some kind of annoyance erupt inside her mixed with that realization) and let her in the school, making the locks lock themselves, which must be the reason why Green hadn't left it open for them, ignoring the wideness and spacious capacity the school held, which, in fact, was like a castle; it made her heart rot when she thought of it. . . The fact that she was to room with a _boy_. She'd thought if they knew she was a girl, then- no, still not happening. Though she was getting desperate by the second. . .

"_There you are_!" shouted a hoarse voice suddenly that it made Yellow look up: it was Green, or, at least she _think_ he was; she squinted her eyes for a better look; yep, it was him, and he was sprinting towards her from a corridor that looked like a block away- God, this place was _huge_- and nearly slipped- Yellow had to control herself from having a fit of giggles again- by passing a room which was, evidently, full of younger students- obviously younger, by the sound of their laughter, which, Yellow took notice of, were _male_ voices- and was looking very worn-out when he reached Yellow, his hair even rivaling Red's at untidiness, looking very windswept.

"Where the goddamned _hell _have you been?" he said breathlessly, grabbing Yellow by the wrist so tightly she winced. "Grandpa should have met you by now!"

"I'm so sorry-!"

"Let's just _go_!" Green snarled at her, yanking her hand, dashing from the floor, running to yet _another_ staircase- what is it with Yellow's vacation and _staircases_?- though they weren't even halfway there yet, which looked like two blocks away- this place was _really _huge- when Yellow had seen several classrooms. . . They were _all_ male students, Yellow noticed. . . Not even a single female. . . The teachers were all male as well. . .

Come to think of it, she hasn't seen a single woman on this island yet. . . She cast this all off her mind, deciding it would be best to think of something to say before she should talk to the mayor, shaking her head. She just _had_ to snap out of it. Ever since she'd been out to this vacation she'd been acting weird and not herself.

As soon as Green had jumped from the ground, skipping a few steps of the staircase, Yellow followed, Green finally letting go of her hand as to prevent certain accidents, with her usual _coordination_: she tried skipping a few steps like Green had but she ended up slipping back to the first step; she didn't bother to try again but her feet were just as tired.

"The staircase's been used to prank on," muttered Green silently, more to himself than to Yellow, glancing behind his shoulder, staring at Yellow's failing attempts to step forward, her jaw hitting the seventh step, trampling back on the floor with a sort of tiredness.

"So- so that wasn't my clumsiness?" Yellow asked from the first step of the staircase, careful not to step on anything slippery. She gripped on to the steel bars of the staircase, recalling the moment in Sky Pillar, though the only difference was that it wasn't Yellow's fault right now. She'd begun to wobble in her knees as she stepped on something liquid and slipped once more, this time she landed on her back, the pain not healing, but swelling.

When she reached the first step again, her feet were high up in the air and her head was, along with her spine, hit on the ground severely, her straw hat not in place as she hastily adjusted it before Green would look at her again, making sure that not even a single strand was out of place, then, when Green rushed down the staircase to come to her aid, he slipped, just as she did, and fell on the ground, facedown, literally.

Yellow stood up and giggled- whoever must have did this prank must be wise; it was Nectar from a Beautifly, a pokémon from Hoenn that, unlike her Kitty, is able to obtain this kind of fluid from flowers and use it against enemies, though Yellow can't help but notice that there was this weird-shaped blob inside it, yet she shrugged it off.

She helped Green stand up, rubbing her back at the same time, stretching it. Green took her hand aggressively and stumbled to get up, clutching the bars of the staircase grudgingly, muttering darkly, "Those damn boys, must be up to more mischief again."

Another thought cropped inside Yellow's mind vaguely, if not inexplicably. So she forced herself to ask this question to Green, who was not in the mood to talk, though he kept muttering things like, "It wasn't there earlier" and "I should've known".

"Green," she said, forcing herself to speak up, not knowing whether he would answer or he won't listen, but he looked at her with a dark expression in his face. "is this school. . . for boys only?"

For a split second, Yellow regretted she'd asked the question, but surprisingly, Green replied, quite calmly, though he was bending his back to reach what seemed to be another form of a pokéball which Yellow had now just noticed; they're Ultra Balls, "You're partly right, though- Porygon Z, _Tri Attack_!"

Yellow was so focused in what Green told her, it took her a while before she knew what was happening: her mind was working in slow motion as she asked the question, not even realizing there was a battle going on, though she had closed her eyes shut in reflex as a red beam had shot out from Green's Ultra Ball; it was taking the shape and form of a somewhat rounded pokémon, its features were undistinguishable, because it took the shape of a bottle of wine; then something with both shape and mass had jumped out of the pool of nectar-

"V-_Vaporeon_?" Yellow yelped, the blue Water-type pokémon's fins making an odd movement jerkily. So that was the blob she'd seen inside the nectar; it could use _Acid Armor_, an attack that melts the user, allowing it to take the shape and form of a liquid, the reason why it could hide in the nectar-

Then Vaporeon let out a cry as Green's odd-shaped pokémon launched an attack at it- Yellow wondered whether it was legal to do pokémon battles inside the school walls, then remembered this school was so big and they wouldn't probably hear this; though their voices must be echoing in the classroom corridors where some of the students were studying at- and it did the same by squirting water at Green's pokémon Yellow had heard him call, _Porygon Z_.

"Yellow- quick- _you should attack as well_!" Green bellowed at her, still not looking at her, focusing on the battle, his eyes swimming with determination to beat Vaporeon.

And all Yellow could manage to say was, "R-right."

For all she knew conscious, she had involuntarily searched her belt bag for a pokéball but was in a hurry so much, they clattered on the floor and they bounced around. She wheeled around to get them and managed to get only a fair few.

"Whoops-"

"HURRY UP!"

Yellow increased her speed and hastiness, the probable reason why she was tripping over Gravvy's pokéball and had accidentally knocked over Kitty's pokéball and it rolled around again, then, in her apparent haste, she'd thrown a pokéball not only by mistake, but it had already bounced a pokémon out by the red beam of light.

It was Chuchu, and she was leaping forward, ready to battle the Vaporeon, not even waiting for Yellow's command, while she, awed, was kneeling on the floor with her legs crossed, and her mouth hanging open- she couldn't have made a mistake this bad. It was really, very bad. . . She forgot to heal Chuchu out of fatigue. She _forgot_. _She _forgot. She _forgot_!

"Chuchu!" she cried, but her pokémon was already instinctively attacking the Vaporeon, along with Green's Porygon Z, avoiding its attacks, which each hit was barely a centimeter, almost staggering to battle.

Yellow stood up, gathered all of her pokéballs with no hesitation or thought whatsoever, and faced the battle. Chuchu had to be healed. But she was already released from the pokéball. . . She had to do something. Quickly, Yellow sprinted to the first step of the staircase again, her pokéballs already attached to her belt, and was bawling her fists in aggression.

"Yellow!" she heard Green say breathlessly as she stared at her knees fixedly, still not doing anything yet. "Is that- Your pokémon is injured! You've got to help it- _Psychic_!"

"I. . . can't," she murmured. Yellow simply can't. It's too much a risk. Then she turned her heel on him, not even caring what he would say next, even though he was focusing on the battle, breathing deeply, then said what she had to say, "_Thunder Wave_!"

Chuchu dodged another attack of Vaporeon's by an inch, then carefully, leaping from the bars of the staircase, executed an attack that will paralyze Vaporeon for a while- until the battle ends, at least-

There was a bang-

"It's been paralyzed!" said Green excitedly, throwing in another attack after Porygon Z's Psychic had missed, his confidence boosting by the glut of Yellow's sudden nerve.

"Quick Attack!" said Yellow suddenly out of the spur of things, spotting Vaporeon knock Green's pokémon to the ground, almost fainting, and Chuchu did what Yellow instructed her to do by accident; she had only meant to tell Green what attack that was.

"No- Chuchu- that was a mistake-!" she said reasonably, though there was no point; she had already attacked, but had dodged another one of Vaporeon's just the same. She was about to let out another command when she heard-

"GODAMMIT!" Green shouted out loud that it made Yellow even turn her head to look: Green had been (Yellow's rage and temporary seriousness had been sapped away instantly)_ soaked _in water.

"Green- are you o-okay-?" she said, both dodging every one of Vaporeon's attacks and forcing the urge not to laugh hysterically.

For a split second, she thought he was about to share a glance with her, but he was so focused in the battle he, Yellow thought, hardly ever even heard her-

"Yellow, watch out, you idiot!"

Yellow, in the corner of her eye had seen where Green's eyes had been looking at and stumbled to get out of the way as a huge wave of water splashed on the floor from Vaporeon's. . . Where the hell did it even come from, anyway?

She slipped as the wave of water had splashed on the wet floor and landed on her back clumsily, if not accidentally. She remained half-sitting and half-standing on the floor as her boots were too wet to let her sit for long as her crotch had stretched, yelling, "Thu-_Thunderbolt_!" after Green had insinuated an attack at Vaporeon before slipping again.

Before Porygon Z's attack even hit Vaporeon, Chuchu's had gotten there first, showing that its speed was swifter than Porygon Z's, then Vaporeon received another hit of attack after a second's notice before fainting on the staircase's first step after Yellow had raised her head from the wet floor, hastily adjusting her hat as the scene occurred savagely, which only took a few seconds' count; about only five.

Yellow's breathing exhilarated since the battle started, and she had never felt so alive and frazzled at the same time, wiping the cold water off her face. She could hear Green's as well, echoing in the hall.

"That. . . was great," said Green finally, after a pause. "But we still don't know how to get to Grandpa while the stupid nectar's still there on the steps-"

"Ho ho," guffawed an aged voice from behind Yellow; she was so surprised, she didn't even turn around to look out of it, literally flinching. She saw Green's jaw hanging as he stared at someone who was definitely behind her, looking as shocked as she was. "You were looking for me? My boy, you should have known I was outside in the botanic greenhouse."

"G-Grandpa!"

_**A/N: Chapter end? Weird. I'm sorry for not publishing this! I was just about to publish it on Sunday but it ended up so bad I decided to renew it. And I'm actually starting to chose story writing over making videos of Specialshipping. Anyway, please tell me how you think about it through a review. I accept flames, but don't tell me I deserve it, I'm too good in a mood to care =D And I think, from what I've gathered rereading my story, that I've given away the shock and suspense by the Summary. Sigh. Oh well! And I'm proud that this document even outworded (is that a word?) my last one! And yeah, I got the Acid Armor thing from Pokémon Special Volume 7. It just got me wondering whether I should use the idea or not, so I did! **_


	6. Some Weird Explanation and Roommates

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

**ME:**_** Seriously, I must have been crazy to have published my work at that late hour of night. But I was so excited that I actually finished it in a week's time not unlike my last, last chapter! And plus, I'm incredibly worried that if I don't finish it today, I might have to continue writing in the city- I'm in urban right now. And for another thing, I can't wait to type my new chapter to the story as well, I'm so impatient about this the reviews would have to wait! And I'm talking about my LAST chapter.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Oh, and for another thing, I've been taking a few ideas off a few movies now, inspired, absolutely inspired, and books, definitely books, but their ideas aren't mine and I shouldn't tell people off lying that it's mine. So the story is mine, but the plot is just a bit of an idea I got off.**_

**GOLD: **_**What the-? I'm not included in the story anymore?**_

**ME: **_**That's partly true.**_

**GOLD: **_**I think I deserve to be out in the limelight! I deserve more than just a side-character!**_

**ME: **_**You're not a side-character!**_

**YELLOW: **_**I think that she's done a good job portraying your attitude.**_

**ME: **_**Thanks, Yellow-san, and Gold- there will be more of you, I'm sure of it, you misunderstood-**_

**GOLD: **_**Watch your language.**_

**ME: **_**I was just gonna say, 'you misunderstood me'.**_

**GOLD: **_**How about the disclaimer?**_

**ME: **_**I'd already done it.**_

**YELLOW: **_**Where's Silver-chan?**_

**GOLD: **_**Don't you dare call me Gold-chan.**_

**YELLOW: **_**I won't, but he told me to tell you you're an idiotic git.**_

**ME: **_**Yellow-san! You swore!**_

**YELLOW: **_**That's different, Silver-chan told me to tell Gold-cha- er, I mean, Gold- and told me that he got that word when he came back from the trip to England.**_

**GOLD: **_**That filthy-**_

**YELLOW: **_**Your language, Gold-ch- Gold.**_

**ME**_**: Anyway, to the story! And anyway, there's some of this "Professor-Oak-and-Yellow"ness in this chapter. **_

_**YELLOW: You WHAT? **_

Fifth Chapter: Some Kind of Explanation and Roommates

**Y**ellow stared at Green for a moment, feeling relieved and somewhat shocked at the same time. She stared at him for a moment, then looked back at Chuchu, who was breathing deeply and her scratches and cuts were very much apparent to the naked eye, even by a certain distance. She hesitated for a moment, thinking whether she should turn around or not, her front wet with water from the floor she slipped on, her back looking exceptionally dry.

Green stood up, his whole uniform soaked, his hair, for once, looking tamer than it had before, its wetness supplied of unruliness. His pokémon, Porygon Z, was hovering his way to him, a rather odd expression in its face, its eyebrows (or what seemed to be eyebrows) furrowing indistinguishably, its yellow-colored eyes (or what seemed to be eyes) now focusing on the figure behind Yellow.

"Guh-Grandpa-"

"No, it is clearly not your fault, Green," said Green's grandfather behind Yellow in that same, hollow voice bouncing through the walls of the enclosed school.

Then a huge crowd of students seemed to have gathered in the scene- apparently, the school's classes must be dismissed. Although it was only an hour ever since Yellow had walked around Mirage Island with Green and Red (who, for some reason, Yellow had missed so much, though not as much as Gold and Uncle Wilton), it seemed as if the sun had already set. Maybe it was due to the fact that the school, Yellow noticed, despite its cool exterior (literal 'cool', as in cold), had no open window at the moment, and that it was still too early to turn the lights on.

At last, she turned round, facing Green's grandfather, though she didn't know it and was unconscious about it, with a sort of tired dismay in her face, pale and pallid from fear and anxiety.

Green's grandfather was, amazingly, not as strict-looking as Green was. His eyes were welcoming and reassuring, the exact opposite Green's had always appeared to be; then his grandfather's nose seemed to be stubbier than his seemed to be, or had they just been broken? Yellow wouldn't like to find out at all. Then, astonishingly, for such an old man, he retained his black hair at the front of his ears, though when it reached the top of the head, it was pure-white. Although his hair still had the kind of thickness it had once before- Yellow had only been guessing but she was sure she was right- his eyebrows appeared to look as if it had been shaved and had grown once again in what seemed to be in a few weeks' time, which was quite a fast growth of eyebrows, considering that it looked as if it had been shaved thickly and carelessly and had grown back just the way it was. His height had already been outgrown by Green's; Green was tall, after all, but his grandfather seemed to be taller than most, and he looked as if an old light and sparkle that had last been seen decades ago that shone through his reassuring smile.

Behind him, however, were younger students- male, all of them, which brought Yellow back to what Green had told her before the battle started earlier, feeling her heart sink again from puzzlement- staring at the scene, looking baffled and whispering mutters to each other distinctly. Their eyes were all on Yellow; she was the only one without a uniform and she guessed that they think she was from the small island she had been stranded on for less than a week with Gold and Uncle Wilton.

Green was about to say something else when his grandfather raised a hand to silence all the loud mutters of the crowd; they obeyed him almost instantly, much to Yellow's surprise.

"Green," his grandfather said, nodding at him. Yellow had the tingling impression that he seemed to not have realized she was there at all. "Who is this?"

"You very well know where he came from," said Green through gritted teeth, Yellow saw in the corner of her eye: Green had walked up between Porygon Z and herself. And for a moment, she thought they were referring to someone else when she remembered that she still had her hat on. Though she was more interested in the tone of how Green told his grandfather that. She glanced behind her back and forgot that Chuchu was still there; she was hopping her way towards Yellow's open arms.

Yellow turned around in time to see Green's grandfather narrow his eyes coldly at his grandson: they seemed to not have a good relationship with each other. She looked around and saw that more students were muttering darkly, their hands covering their mouths and speaking in a low voice to their classmates' ears, their eyes not leaving her yet: she shuddered uncomfortably and tried to pay more attention to Green and his grandfather.

"What's his name, Green?" She saw Green give a twitch at the sound of his name. She recalled that he called his grandfather a 'bastard' for naming him. "I know where he came from, so who is he?"

Yellow thought Green was going to lose his cool this time, she was surprised when he replied, curtly, calmly, though there was a note of aggression in his voice and his hands were clenched, "Yellow, sir."

Yellow noticed he didn't call her 'Amarillo' like Red did. Was he listening in?

His grandfather fell silent for a while, thinking deeply, quite the contrast of what had been going on around him, where about fifty students were shouting things like, "He's a freak", "He came from Mars", and "LOSER".

Yellow felt like she was going to cry, but better not to risk it. Instead, she contented herself by sighing uneasily, and she was unconscious of the fact that Chuchu was being squeezed by her, her nails digging deep into her skin forcefully.

"Your name, young lad, is Yellow, my boy?" he asked uncertainly, his thick eyebrows raising. Yellow bit her lip, but stayed on the ground, her breathing slow. She was caressing Chuchu almost grudgingly; she can't take her eyes off him now: they were locked in a glaring battle, and it was a close competition. After a while, her eyes blinked with reluctance, which was the same time Green's grandfather spoke after the pause.

"I see," he said, nodding his head profoundly, as though he understood something, which Yellow detested; she hated the fact that people could read her mind like an open book, not when they understand something before she even spoke. She didn't say anything yet, forcing her tongue to keep still, stroking Chuchu's fur with a certain bellicosity. She gritted her teeth just so she couldn't say anything. Not yet. This isn't the right time.

That time still, Yellow ignored the muffled murmurs of the crowd as the silence stretched; apparently, Green's grandfather had been waiting for the same thing Yellow had: a response of comeback. Yet Yellow was glued to silence, and she daren't say anything still. She had never felt this kind of suspicion toward someone else in a way. If Green hated him so much, how couldn't she? He liked to know more about her, which wasn't so bad, but in a different way others had to Yellow.

"Walk with me to my office, Yellow," he said unexpectedly so suddenly that Yellow was snapped from her thoughts. She blinked at him blankly for several seconds as the crowd's murmurs and whispers turned into something more despicable; they were now falling silent, but in spite of that, Yellow didn't care. She didn't care about anything right now. Right now- she was clueless.

"Eh?" she said, expecting something more serious than that. Chuchu raised her head from Yellow's arms for about a second and plopped them down again, looking mildly interested, her ears twitching. Yellow half-glanced at Green, who was raising his eyebrows with suspicion at her. He made a slight head gesture and nodded at his grandfather eagerly, if not reluctantly. Then she turned back to his grandfather, who was still looking pallid and stern, but more so earlier.

He nodded his head (just like Green had) to the left side of the hall; it looked a whole lot bigger than the one Yellow and the crowd was in right now: the direction he seemed to be _heading _at was where a small crowd of students thinned, all by his nod. He was staggering forward (to the left side of the hall, obviously, _his_ front) and stopped when he noticed Yellow wasn't following.

Blinking uncontrollably, obliviously, Yellow followed him suit, running to the left side of the hall hastily, as to avoid more murmurs and gossip; it was then she realized that boys could gossip as well; but what her real realization was the whole school had been, what Green had said, entirely educating male students only, and not only students, the teachers were all male as well.

As they walked down the Hall- it was pure skill and ability to know that it was used as a codename as well, when Yellow heard several students referring to this corridor 'Hall'- Yellow couldn't help but feel uneasy as they did. She could still hear some murmurs from the students, but thank God they were dying away as their distance between them stretched. Yellow still couldn't bear to look up at Green's grandfather, knowing full well that he wanted to talk first.

She continued to feign interest in stroking Chuchu, who was already asleep. The only things she could hear in the Hall right now were their breaths and footsteps, it truly was a quiet and silent corridor. In the corner of her eye, she could see to her left huge doors which lead- most likely- to a classroom, a rather spacious one at that. She couldn't help but notice that each door had different signs, different patterns on them which were carved with, like the locks in the front gate- which gate was called the Access again? Was it the first one or the second one Red dropped Yellow off earlier?

Then something unpleasant lurched inside Yellow's stomach. . . Why did she even miss him? She was getting the impression that if these sudden lurches of the stomach continue all the time, Yellow began to think that they were like a constant stomach ache that she isn't able to not apprehend. Yellow _must_ miss Gold and Uncle Wilton more, and yet she's starting to miss a guy she just met- hardly met- as much as she missed her family? Where was Blue whenever you needed her. . .

She shook her head as they continued to walk along the Hall. Then, getting bored of brushing Chuchu's fur, she looked around the hall skeptically, squinting her eyes just to look at each huge window at the side of the Hall to her right, forgetting the fact that she was walking to Green's grandfather's office because of one particular reason she couldn't remember Red telling her. . .

Oh right, because she needed to register her _problem_, since his grandfather was the _mayor_ of Mirage Island as well, who must know a lot of things behind its past, having lived in this island for- how many years?

She realized that she was staring at the back of his head awkwardly in silence, but it was fortunate that he didn't notice, because if he did, he'll be talking, and if he'll be talking, he'll ask Yellow how she happened to get here. Which, in Yellow's opinion, would be awkwardly unnecessary.

Yellow began to unconsciously stroke Chuchu's fur as her eyes, directing at Green's grandfather without her realization, were curiously moving from Green's grandfather's face- she still didn't know his name up to now- to the closed windows, her blinking involuntary, their footsteps in rhythm of her eyes as they darted from one object to another.

Then she looked away, turning to the floor, watching her step as they were headed to Green's grandfather's office, and returned to thinking deeply, still unconsciously stroking Chuchu's fur, about the fiasco that had happened not so long ago. . .

Yellow was right about what Green had said. She asked him if the whole school was for boys only. . . And he replied that she was partly right; she couldn't understand why this bothered her so much to no end, but she was leading some clues to it, the reason why he said it. He had been lying, then- or had he spoken the truth? Was there more to it than Yellow had thought? More she couldn't understand and doesn't know yet? Something cold ran down her spine as the thought kept flashing in her mind's eye, again and again. . . It was maddening. She trusted Green yet how could he lie to her? Then again, what if he was telling the truth? Or was he? Or did he just tell her that to start the battle out of haste? She knew Green (not much, but pretty well) and he was always in a hurry whenever danger was there, though he keeps his cool every time, taking time to control himself. But she didn't know him that well, so he could probably be lying.

Yellow racked her brain for some clues: Green thought she was a boy, so why would he lie? So she was wrong, he didn't lie. But then again, she saw that aggression in his eyes when he saw his own grandfather, and he told Yellow that he was going to help her. So what if he tried to stop his own grandfather from getting to Yellow? But why could he?

Yellow bit her lip in puzzlement and worry; she wanted to go back home, where everyone was. But she needed to know _how_ to get home, that's the question, isn't it? Both Red and Green haven't told her exactly how to get home. . . It must take time, though, because Green (or Red, was it?) mentioned that it takes Mirage Island about a month to encircle the time and fabric of space so that their time and direction could be in tack.

Mirage Island is an island that slows the speed of time and space in the continuum of the whole universe. So it must be banished from the region of Hoenn, but why? There must be a reason for that. She couldn't think of an appropriate one at this minute, but she thought she could ask Green's grandfather that when they reach his office.

Their footsteps became more and more boisterous the more distant they get from the last hall they were in. But wasn't Green's grandfather's office at the top of the stairs? She was about to open her mouth to say something to Green's grandfather when she hit something hard and painfully solid unconsciously, her left cheek being pushed against the solid object by her own force and absentmindedness.

Chuchu let out a small squeak and leapt from Yellow's arms, landing on the ground safely and neatly. Yellow collapsed on the floor, her cheek swelling unhealthily.

"Yellow! Are you okay?" Green's grandfather gasped, helping her get up as her hat was slipping from her head-

Yellow, acting instinctively, picked Chuchu up from the floor hastily and threw her ("CHUUUUUUU!" she squeaked in terror.) at Green's grandfather's face, giving herself enough time to adjust her straw hat without conscious thought as she did this involuntarily.

"What- Pikachu- get down- my face!" he said hysterically, trying to pull Chuchu from his face. Yellow, fear and anxiety overwhelming her whole body, was in a state of panic, she _didn't_ just do that, did she? As she tried to pull Chuchu from his face, which was unsuccessful, her cheek was throbbing with pain and swelling that she couldn't even think straight; it was forming a bruise.

"Get- get her pokéball-!"

"Woddit," Yellow's cheek was so swollen she couldn't even talk straight now; she ignored this and searched her belt for Chuchu's pokéball in frantic panic, literally paranoid.

At last, she had found Chuchu's pokéball at the most left side of her belt and directed it at Chuchu's back, whose front was facing Green's grandfather's face, which was scratched and cut by her paws, "Weworn, Kuku!"

Slowly, a red light emerged from the ball and Chuchu was being engulfed in it, returning to her pokéball, and Green's grandfather's face was now showing with the apparent cuts he had received from her pokémon.

"I'm swowwy sir- oh my Wod- did Kuku ert oo?" Yellow spluttered, trying to help him recover but he raised a patient hand, his other hand digging deep in his pockets for something, then turned to the door- which, of course, Yellow realized, was the solid object she had hit earlier; indeed, it didn't look much big compared to the other doors of the classroom in this hall, the Hall, but it certainly looked sturdier and steelier.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll recover, but yours is much, much more to worry about. Is that a bruise?" he asked, his silencing hand now covering his face as he said it, making Yellow doubt that she was more worrying than he was. She nodded slowly, not thinking straight.

When he pulled his hand out of his pocket, Yellow saw that it was some sort of. . . microchip? Green's grandfather smiled reassuringly- something Green and him don't have in common among others- and saw the look on Yellow's face, extending his hand to place the microchip somewhere near the door or something.

"Oho," he said abruptly that Yellow raised her eyebrows showing that she was surprised, "You're wondering why I pulled this out, aren't you, young boy?"

Yellow was almost precisely sure that he was addressing someone else, not used to being called something that addresses boys, but was fortunate that she didn't show any signs of surprise as to being addressed that way. Then her swollen cheek painfully prickled before she could even answer, so instead she just nodded again, the pain still not wavering, clearly.

"It's a kind of key we use to get to our offices," he went on, inserting the microchip into a small, but wide hole at the corner of the door. Yellow flinched in surprise when the door swung open by itself almost instantly after the chip was inserted.

"Whoa," she breathed as it slid open, her mouth agape: a rather small bruise had already formed at the corner of her mouth; it didn't look appealing. . . On the contrary, it looked quite disturbing- the bruise was discoloring her pale-white face, and it, and it alone, made Yellow look a little intimidating: the bruise made her look as though she'd been from a fierce battle and had escaped. . . barely.

"Wo?" she said, raising her eyebrows at Green's grandfather dubiously, her cheek swelling painfully. Green's grandfather gestured her inside his office with patience. Yellow creased her forehead a bit, though he didn't see it through her bangs and- obviously- he was still focused on her bruise.

She was still looking at Green's grandfather from behind her shoulder when she decided to look at where she's going at- she gave a gasp of surprise when she looked at his office as the door slid close behind her, and Green's grandfather's footsteps were growing louder- instead of a cute and quaint little office she's been used to all these years in her principal's office (with _Gold_), it was a circular room filled with thousands- no, _millions_- of paperwork just on one shelf itself: the office table was above a second floor- which was partly a floor at all in the whole room; the corner of the second floor was barred with golden rails, the other half not constructed by some means. The floor itself was shining with light reflected from the huge chandelier that was just above the whole room, a few meters from the short second floor- it was polished so neatly that Yellow could see her own reflection staring back at her, her boots covering the rest of her body's reflection of the floor. Beneath the second floor was a smaller, varnished table and on top of it were four laptops, each of its own design. And behind the table of the first floor, it was a small bookshelf- smaller than the shelves Yellow saw in the room- but with pokéballs; each residing different pokémon, and not one of them was containing the same one.

The thing that awed Yellow was what the second floor was built on: staircases at each side, gleaming with the colors of gold and crimson with fifteen feet of stair steps, dazzling with so much sparkle that it made Yellow close her eyes in reflex just looking at it. She wanted to say something out of awe but her bruise was so painful she couldn't say anything out of discomforting agony. Well, it would be agonizing if you wanted to talk out of surprise and awe of this room but you won't because you have a swelling contusion in your face just because you hit a door- Yellow gave a small shudder out of idiocy and shame.

She felt a pat on her shoulder and she looked up; it was Green's grandfather smiling down at her with slight scratches on his face in consort with cuts. "Sit down, if you will, Yellow."

Startled, Yellow obeyed and sat down a chair near the neighboring table full of computers- which, in fact, Yellow had developed a nagging habit of, Yellow christened as the _Keyboard_- it wasn't much of a pun since not many people use the word 'board' for table, but it was quite nice. She shifted in her seat as to get comfortable on it; it wasn't as relaxing as Yellow hoped it to be after several days asleep on what seemed to be the ground of the small prairie- or something, but it was Yellow's only option, so she better get snug before something inside her will reflex horribly, so she settled with the chair with her hands clutching the corners of the chair apprehensively as Green's grandfather wheeled around to the cabinet and turned around again to face Yellow, handing out a plastic of ice to her which she, startled, took and placed it on her bruise. . . The pain was starting to die away. . .

"So," said Green's grandfather, taking a seat down the chair behind the Keyboard, his hands shuffling each other as he looked at Yellow with placate eyes, settling down his chair; which, in fact, had _armrests_. Yellow thought for a split-second that having no armrests to a chair must be some kind of punishment- this was the principal's office, after all- but had second thoughts, recalling that he was the mayor of the island, too. "Yellow."

"Thir," Yellow replied curtly, expecting he'd continue, the stinging sensation of her contusion ebbing away and she could feel her bruise shrink.

"You do know who I am, don't you?" he said unexpectedly. Yellow was a bit stunned of this question, but when she thought about it, she really didn't know who he was. . .

"Yow the mayo and the scu primthipal," said Yellow casually, though she knew that he meant more than that. He sighed and massaged his forehead. Yellow could've shrunk in the seat.

"Yellow, Yellow, Yellow," he repeated quietly, sighing in what seemed to be exasperation. Yellow couldn't blame him. She twiddled with her fingers for a while away from the length and capacity of his sight underneath the table, nervously biting her lower lip while she did. "You should know me before I answer your questions about this island."

"Yeth, thir," she said stiffly, her hopes collapsing into bits. She had hoped that he would tell her all about it, but doubted whether he would help her get out of here. The sting was gone now.

He clicked his tongue and held out a hand, expecting Yellow would shake it, apparently, but all Yellow did was cringe in a certain discomfort and disquiet. Finally, she gave in and reached out her hand and, hesitantly, shook it.

"Oak, Samuel Oak," he said, nodding his head at her with a somewhat grimace, still not smiling. Yellow nodded her head stiffly. "As a Pokémon scientist, you can call me 'Professor Oak', as a friend, you may call me 'Sam' or 'Oak', as teacher you will, shall, and _must _call me 'Professor' or 'sir'. And as for mayor"- his eyes twinkled at Yellow- "you shall call me 'Mayor Oak' or just 'Professor Oak'."

"Yeth, thir."

"But what do I know about you, Yellow?" he said, scratching his chin somewhat reproachfully. Yellow was surprised that those words came from his mouth. "I know how you got here, but _why_?"

Yellow's jaw dropped and her heart leapt. "_What?_" she spat, finding herself standing, letting go of the bag of ice as it fell on the ground. He knew _how_ she got here but didn't know _why_? She got here because some jerk had carried her all the way to Ample Plains. . . Was Professor Oak the one who sent him? Then. . . Then. . . _he knew_? Professor Oak shifted his eyes to her face; her bruise was nothing more than a mere, tiny red discoloration at the corner of her mouth. "You knew _how_ I got here but you don't know _why?_"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't know," he said placidly, raising a lazy eyebrow. Yellow couldn't _believe _the guy. She was on a _banished_ island, wasn't she? How could she _not_ panic?

"But-"

"No 'buts'," he interrupted patiently as Yellow plopped down her seat again, abashed, but still listening carefully to what he had to say. "Listen to me, young boy"- Yellow forgot she was disguised as a boy and hastily adjusted her hat- "for the time being, you stay here, on this island-"

"SIR-!"

Professor Oak gave her a sharp look and she fell silent at once, but reluctantly. "You know that Mirage Island is at a different time and space from Hoenn, don't you?"

Yellow gave him a nod as her memory began flashing back towards her, recalling what Red had told her, '_We're not in that island nor in the world which is separate from this one, having dislodged times and hours that makes them distant_.' So he was right about that, but hadn't he mentioned something about _once a month_?

"The legend of Hoenn's Mirage Island is just a legend, of course, not all of us scientists believe it, because there are theories, more than theories- _proof_, I daresay- about how time and space continuum have been warped to and fro on this island, meaning that the time here in Mirage Island could be either- it depends on the season of Hoenn and its time- slow or fast-"

"Seven times," Yellow breathed, excitement and understanding pulsing inside her veins. Then her memory began to go in acceleration again, memories replaying in her mind's eye as it exploded inwardly; '_It depends on the season of Hoenn_. . .'

There was this storm. Barty knew it. He predicted Mirage Island would come because of the recent storms. . . And the currents in Hoenn she's seen on television. The reports of flood. . . The reports of various buildings and houses being flooded over by the water current is due to the storms there, and the reason Mirage Island was back because of the weather-

"Yes, Yellow," Professor Oak went on, making the scene in Yellow's eye implode into nothingness: her heart was beating so fast she didn't catch what was going on right now. "Seven times the time. Either faster or slower, Mirage Island is an island which has a season that's unbalanced unless acted upon by the outer season. Meaning that there could be no Spring without how Hoenn changes-"

"So Mirage Island is still on contact with Hoenn, isn't it?" said Yellow slowly, her heart beating rapidly, excitement once again flowing through her veins.

"Yes, in a way," said Professor Oak in a throaty voice and Yellow's heart leapt. "Spring: Mirage Island returns to anywhere in the vicinity of Hoenn's northeast- Summer: somewhere near the vicinity of Slateport- Fall-"-Yellow's heart sank- "near the island that resides the Sky Pillar-"

"That's the theory, isn't it?" said Yellow, awaiting for the answer. She could wait even a century just to hear what she had to. . . She missed her life. She missed everybody back, and she didn't give a _damn_ how she could do it; she just had to.

"Yes, yes it is, many believe so," Professor Oak went on, scratching his chin thoughtfully. He blinked several times before continuing, to Yellow's content, "I do, as well. But the myth is that it had been separated from Hoenn due to the fact that there was something of a bigger mass that had overstretched throughout the whole region, making the island disappear without a trace, and the people and pokémon living in it had perished."

Yellow's left eye gave an involuntary twitch. She tightened her grip on the chair, biting her lower lip as it started to quiver yet again: she could just feel the tension blooming in the room.

"Then the elders"- Yellow was surprised that there were old people here other than him- "say that a pokémon was able to transport back into time and change how that happened."

"A _pokémon_ that travels through the boundaries of time?" said Yellow, her interest of this topic increasing, straightening in her seat, listening very carefully.

"Yes. We don't know how it did it, but the people who had perished were alive again, and the other pokémon as well, but on a price- because of how it was done, it was therefore banished from the time and space Hoenn had, implying the people who had lived here for long had died and now the myth had passed on from elder to elder- but enough of that.

"The theory is much more realistic and has more fact," he stated, nodding his head in an indignant manner as Yellow settled herself in her seat reproachfully. "As I'd said, Mirage Island's time is very difficult to study and to pinpoint, so the scientists here are made to only theorize when we are now! When the time of Hoenn and the time of Mirage Island will meet into one, Mirage Island will be evidently seen in the eyes of both people and pokémon, which means that the time and space of this island and the region of Hoenn is at par- and no one is sure of this- but that just as well means that if the time shifts from slow to fast seven times: this _proves_ that the time of this island and on Hoenn are still in tact! That means that even though the time and space between this island and of that in Hoenn are a huge gap between each other, it doesn't mean that its connections with each other aren't not supposed to be dealt with- it _precisely_ means that Mirage Island is only a space between Hoenn-"

"So you're telling me something that's only been guessed at?" said Yellow automatically, so abruptly that she even caught herself in surprise. She immediately covered her mouth over her hands, gasping. She shouldn't be that rude, this man was helping her get back to Gold and Uncle Wilton- if she was caught being impolite, let alone obscene in front of him, he might not help her at all- more surprisingly than so, Professor Oak smiled warmly for the first time as Yellow's heart leaped.

"Yes, and quite honestly, it was crude research," he replied somewhat shamefully, smiling with reminiscence. Yellow raised her eyebrows in curiosity- and remembered that she was lucky she was forgiven and dropped it. Then he appeared to have pulled himself together when he said, "And as my _crude_ research suggests- along with the other scientists, of course-" he added modestly, seeing the corners of Yellow's mouth form a smirk, "- Mirage Island should not be flouted with by trying to figure out how that works, because one little thing can lead to another- not that that flouting thing was little, but it can lead to _worse_, if you ask me- because time can be dangerous when meddled with, so don't you ever try."

"Is that why Red and Green had never left the island, sir?" asked Yellow unthinkingly yet again, and this time, unconsciously, she had hit a mark: Professor Oak's once-placid face was now paling into a light color of white, and his eyes were widening with what seemed to be fear and anxiety that made Yellow feel guilty of what she said and tried to fix it hesitantly. "I'm sorry, sir- it's just that- I didn't know- Is that by law?"

For a split of a second, Yellow thought he was going to have a fit, seeing him flinch and go rigid, shuddering. Yellow's guilt had increased and had heaved her stomach lower to what she guessed was her feet: she bit her lower lip as it nervously quivered again.

"Yes," he croaked, his voice cracking unhealthily, Yellow noticed. "it is. And I trust that you would follow that law until it is time for the season to change."

"But that's in Winter!" said Yellow indignantly, sadly, and her hopes were collapsing once again. "It wasn't at all like last time!"

"Yes, it wasn't," said Professor Oak, now back into his placid self- a more polite and loquacious sort of 'Green', but Green had inherited his calmness. Yellow stared at him in disbelief. "Because there were recent storms, weren't there? Would you consider those storms a kind of warm winter?"

Yellow opened her mouth to say something, but Professor Oak went on with no answer and left Yellow to sheepishly scratch the back of her neck.

"You could and definitely would, but the incident that caused how low the temperature of the water is and how fast it can increase its measurement since last year doesn't go unnoticed at all- and by the long duration of the rain alone can take can affect the weather, but _what_ is causing it to do this? That's what the scientists of Mirage Island want to know, and judging by the measurement we took into last year's Fall season, the rainfall has increased its quantity-"

"Sir," Yellow interrupted. She needed to ask this question, and not because out of curiosity, but because it might find her some clues as to how she'll get out of here; her hand was trembling and her voice was beginning to crack. "I need to ask this question, sir- because I don't see the need why I have to understand what scientists do."

Professor Oak looked absolutely dumbfounded as she said it, but even though he looked as if he could punch her right in the face, she stood her ground, but straightened in her seat uncomfortably, her heart starting to beat a thousand times from the way he looked at her.

"Y-yes, of c-course," said Professor Oak, a little frazzled and disappointed judging by his tone of feigning understanding. Yellow couldn't see any other resemblances between him and Green other than how placidly calm they are. "You need to know what Mirage Island is, and not how scientists theorize it. Go on, Yellow."

Yellow flinched almost surprised at the sound of her name: maybe it was the fact that nobody called her that for a few minutes since she had been unconscious?

"I haven't seen any women here yet," said Yellow, pulling herself together. Professor Oak stared at her. It was a statement, not a question. Yellow gulped and silenced her quivering lip by biting it, and behind her were her fingers crossing.

"Ah," said Professor Oak unexpectedly. Yellow's heart skipped a beat as he did, and her uneasiness became discomfort. "Yes, well- you see, boys are the only ones here, but with a specific age."

She knew it. But with a specific _age_? And how come there are only _boys_ in this disturbing place? "Sir, why are there-?"

"But what is _your_ story?"

"Eh?" Yellow squeaked reproachfully, almost as if she had done a sin and didn't tell anybody. _Her_ story? About what? She shrugged mentally and decided her only option was to play stupid- stupider than how she already felt right now, "Sorry?"

"How did you get here, my boy, we all wonder- _how_?" he said with excitement building up, by the looks of it, mixed with frustration from not understanding. Yellow raised her eyebrows: she thought he already mentioned he knew _how _she got here, but _why_ was his question, wasn't it?

Yellow racked her brains: the odd man that carried her away, did Professor Oak actually _know_ about it? Her grip on the chair was starting to strengthen, and her heart was beating automatically now, and her veins weren't streaming with blood anymore- it was streaming with excitement and her urge to know, and her voice didn't crack even a bit when she replied with such dignity left inside her, her heart lightening its load and was feeling her freedom to speak up at last, "I was following this man. . . An old man, and he was away for two days and he suddenly appeared from nowhere- obviously, I didn't know where he was- into this hut- my family and I got stranded on that island inhabiting the Sky Pillar and we lived there for about three days- and he got mad because my cousin and I read a weird calligraphy of some sort-"

And her memory began to flash back to her, exploding with pictures of scenes she and Gold had been in, and she had been holding the book all along, and it contained various pieces about. . .

"-about Mirage Island," she breathed, and felt Professor Oak stare at her. She looked down fixedly at her feet, her pulse beginning to build up.

Something was very wrong there, how did he manage to even make a manuscript of his own when he hadn't even went to Mirage Island- if he did, why did he stay there and was summoning Mirage Island? Barty. . . Was he going to tell Gold and Uncle Wilton? Then. . . He mentioned the other day about how dangerous the island was to young girls. . . And all she cared about was how _homosexual _she was. She just had to know what was going on here.

"Go on, Yellow," Professor Oak said, eager to hear more, but Yellow was too busy with her own thoughts. "Keep going."

Yellow tilted her head and looked at Professor Oak, her face looking awfully worried. She chewed her lower lip as if it was a pacifier and gritted her teeth with reluctance to go on, "Then we walked up to Sky Pillar. . . And Mirage Island was on top of me, and I tried to warn Barty to get back down, but he was the one who told me off. Then there was sand- it only made the storm that went on go worse. And there was this figure. . . He was a man. Then he tried to kidnap me, and I heard Barty shout. . . And then I lost conscious and found myself asleep for a whole week- but that's just a day here. Green and Red told me that, and then they told me to get to you, sir," she added with a note of shame and guilt in her voice, finishing it out of tiredness to go on.

"That man," said Professor Oak with a hint of ominous understanding in his voice, shaking, "who is he? Did you see his face?"

"Barty, sir, the old man- and of course I saw-"

"No, not _him_, I meant the man that tried to kidnap you," said Professor Oak sharply. Yellow spluttered abruptly: the man that tried to kidnap her? She never gave that a thought before. . . _Did_ she see his face? It was dusty, so she mustn't have. . .

But then again, she blacked out after that, and she can't recall anything about it. . . Not to mention that her hat was simultaneously not on, so that man must've known she was a girl. . . But why did he even bring her here in the first place? So she must've been knocked out cold, since she didn't remember anything then on- her memory's pictures began to flash back to her mind's eye, exploding like a movie: and then before she went unconscious, the man's body came closer to her- then his figure became bigger and bigger, and her eyes were squinting; she couldn't see much, because of the sandstorm and the rainstorm mixed together- mud scattering into her eyes- but the man was wearing what seemed to be a white uniform. . . And, in closer inspection, he didn't appear to be huge at all- on the contrary, he seemed thin, but well-built; though he seemed to be a few inches taller than either Red or Green. Then the last thing she saw were a pair of deep, black eyes.

Then the scene in her mind's eye imploded, returning her to reality, sweating with nervousness- she remembered: the man- he tried to kidnap her, and he did, but for what purpose? Then he left, she thought, when she gained conscious. A horrible thought ran down her spine along with a creepy sensation: he didn't. . . he didn't do- he didn't do _anything_ to her, did he? God knows. But if he didn't, then she was fortunate and grateful that Red and Green had come to the rescue. . . But didn't they say they were there on Professor Oak's orders? They did. . . Then- they think she's a boy, so she mustn't have been unclothed then- because if she was, she'd feel it and she'd be wide awake: she shook her head of the thought, trying to think of other things that don't concern anything obscene and ravish-related.

"I- I think I did," Yellow murmured, recalling the pair of dark shade of eyes, then his figure. She was shaking, she knew it, but tried to ignore it, because she was waiting for her voice to come back, "He. . . He kidnapped me, Professor, and brought me here. . . I don't know why. . . But- but- I. . ."

Then she remembered before she even stepped foot on Sky Pillar, trembling, her eyes bulging widely, and she was rocking the chair to keep herself from the tears nearly falling from her eyes, not daring to look at Professor Oak, though she didn't let her tears fall all the same.

"Before I left the hut to try and catch up with the old man. . ." Yellow said with disinclination to keep going, the chair rocking to and fro wildly, and she didn't even notice, too busy to keep the tears falling from her eyes, her teeth gritted as she said it, "I left the hut and didn't even bother. . . Didn't even bother to say good-bye to my. . . To my cousin and. . . And my Uncle. . ."

She didn't want to cry- she didn't had to cry- boys don't cry, she mustn't cry- but she _needed_ to. The whole room was blurry- even her lap was, which she was staring at fixedly. She saw Professor Oak's figure move jerkily and she threw her hand at him aggressively, finally showing him her face, though her tears were flowing so fast and so strongly she closed them shut just to let them fall and trickle- Yellow didn't need to see his face to know he was concerned- she guessed that he thinks she was crying for pain and suffering. . . But he was wrong- the anger alone made her cry this badly- that man took her away for what? Then she couldn't even have to contact Gold and Uncle Wilton. . . If that bastard only knew- even had the slightest sympathy to understand- she had a family. . . And she missed them. . . Her life. . . She couldn't bear it- he wouldn't have kidnapped her as well- he would have understood. . .

Then she was mad with herself. Yellow was mad for being mad. She blamed the bastard who took her and even thought of him as a bastard- everything would be resolved, and soon. . . She had to be strong- she can't risk letting out she was a girl just by crying like one- she bit her lip and said to Professor Oak aggressively, nearly yelling, "YOU! YOU KNEW _HOW_ THIS HAPPENED FROM THE START, DIDN'T YOU? That man- you must know him- he must be from this island- _why did he even take me away_? Then- _what the hell was that explanation Barty said to me ab-about how girls aren't allowed in this island?_ What is going on in this- _this island_? You still haven't answered my question, Professor- I haven't seen one damn girl in this island!"

She felt her breathing go fast the second she exploded, and returned to her silent sobs through gritted teeth, her fists clenched into bawls. She was stupid- she shouldn't have exploded like that. She shouldn't. . . She mopped her eyes with her bawled hands- which were now passive- and felt her mouth go dry when she clicked her tongue, it landed dryly at the bottom of her mouth.

"I'm- so- sorry- Professor," said Yellow between hiccups, wiping her tears with her sleeve. She blinked so that they wouldn't continue, hoping they really won't, through gritted teeth. She didn't dare look at Professor Oak's face right now, not when she was crying- stopping the tears from falling down her lap. She could feel the bruise on her left cheek go numb again as the tears keep trickling down from her eyes, which she failed to stop the flow. Yellow hiccupped again, then straightened herself by slapping her right cheek.

"What was that for?" Professor Oak demanded in horror- Yellow didn't stop slapping herself with her hand as her tears began to stop. He reached out from his chair across the Keyboard and gripped on Yellow's wrists- Yellow looked at him a weird expression on her face; a mixture of curiosity and perplexity. She sniffled then, her wrists unable to move from Professor Oak's firm grip, she was unsuccessful: she could feel her wrists quivering.

"You- mustn't- do- that!" Professor Oak gasped, his grip tightening, then let go of them- Yellow's hands fell on the Keyboard- they were trembling madly. He sank back to his seat, then clutched his heart- he was afraid that Yellow was committing suicide. Yellow stared at him; he was looking outraged and concerned at the same time which reminded Yellow of the personality Uncle Wilton had, then she shook her head and sank down her seat again; the tears have stopped flowing yet her mouth still felt dry.

There was this sort of tension in this room that was getting more strained by the minute they stare at their laps, both looking abashed and tired. And Yellow heard Professor Oak make an involuntary- she knew it was, by the moment's hesitation- movement in his chair as his arms were spread across the desktop, crossing themselves- she looked up.

"Yellow- before I answer your question," he said, his breathing heard from where Yellow had sat, his eyes looking solemn and stern, "you need to answer mine first."

Yellow gave a curt nod with determination, then sniffled again, biting her lip. She glanced from Professor Oak's focused eyes down to her lap, feeling apprehensive about this, but didn't say a word yet, blinking automatically.

"Why did you say that, the thing about how girls aren't allowed in this island?" asked Professor Oak slowly, his voice cracking. Yellow flinched- she broke her gaze of the left foot of the table and stared at Professor Oak with surprised horror: had that slipped from her mouth so loudly? Did he know? She racked her brains for an ambiguous answer. Lesse; she had a sister- she had a mother- she had Chuchu? The more time stretches, the wilder her answer gets. . .

"My cousin is a girl."

_Crap_.

Yellow looked at Professor Oak with an expression on her face that's a mixture of censor and guilt: he, however, looked as though he bought the story. Yellow felt relief swell over her body and guilt inflate in her stomach as it exploded.

"Ah," Yellow didn't know whether this reaction was from surprise or understanding, but she would be happiest right now if it _was_ understanding, "I see. Was she with you when you were at Sky Pillar?"

"No, sir," said Yellow truthfully- the best choice must be was honesty, "he- _she_ wasn't."

"Okay," he said simply- but why was there a hint of dismissal in his voice? "It's getting late now, I see."

Yellow glanced at the windows above them- the sun was setting with rays of pink and orange light shooting across the sky- were they that long in talking? Have they talked too long that it already was sunset? She thought of the possibility- then it hit her: wasn't the time here supposed to be slower? Have they really talked _that_ long? She considered the possibility: they walked to his room for over an hour, then they talked- before they did, Yellow was taken about nine or ten minutes to marvel at his room- they were up later than she thought.

"We'll continue our talk tomorrow, Yellow," he said dismissively, standing up from the Keyboard and clapping his hands as if he did something successfully, leaving Yellow to look at him, dumfounded.

"Bu-bu-but-" she spluttered, then she forced herself to continue as he was already walking halfway to the door, "But I haven't got a place to stay- _sir_!"

"Oh, you will," he said simply, inserting the microchip to the hole almost lazily, still not looking at her while she was having difficulty in getting up from her seat, "I'll room you in with another student."

"A WHAT?"

"Of course," Professor Oak said simply, then the door slid open when Yellow ran over to him, panting, ("Sir! Listen to me!" she begged.) "An older student has graduated from his dorm and now you are free to sleep there until the time comes for you to leave."

Something had kicked Yellow's stomach. She stared at Professor Oak disbelievingly as he cued her to go out after him. He couldn't possibly be- but hadn't Red told her that earlier? She gulped and straightened herself- this was gonna be a _long _month. Literally.

She stepped out of the office and ran to catch up with Professor Oak, who appeared to be fifty yards from her, whistling, playing with a key with his finger, his other hand dug deep in his pockets.

"Sir-!" Yellow yelled, waving her arms for him to notice her, frantically running- she nearly slipped but at least she reached him, "sir, who'll be my roommate, sir?"

Professor Oak gave her a reassuring smile that she returned as a tired grimace, "He can't be that bad, can he?"

…

A raven-haired boy was cleaning his pokéballs when he heard a knock from his door. He stood up from his table tiredly and walked over to the door, stepping over his old clothes as he did.

He put on his slippers and slid open the door-

"Good evening, Red," said the person whom he knew to be Professor Oak. He nodded welcomingly, not noticing the younger person just hiding behind Professor Oak shyly, her heart pounding right out of her chest.

"Evening, Professor," he said happily, his crimson-red eyes staring back at the black ones. The girl behind Professor Oak was obvious in the light, but fortunately- for her- the light was dim. She adjusted her straw hat and said nothing, merely blushing behind Professor Oak.

Then he noticed something squirming from behind him. . . He pulled down his shirt with a sort of curiosity and his torn pants were giving him the sort of look of that of a gangster: his unruly hair was sticking up and about, messy as ever, and, through the moonlight, the girl saw that he looked somewhat like an angel, despite the fact that he wore that kind of clothes.

"I'm here to let you know that Yellow- you know him, I'm sure- I was, of course, the one that sent you to nurse him- will be staying at your dorm tonight."

"What?" said Red in disbelief, he looked around and saw Yellow- the girl who had been hiding behind Professor Oak for a while now.

"Er, hi?"

_**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**_

**ME**_**: I'm so sorry it had to end, but I was running out of time and space, and my eyes are burning! I'm really sorry that I also put a lot of details into something! And I'm sorry that Yellow had been angst-ridden- this is the part I was telling you about in the summary! Oh, and I forgot- please forgive me for putting a little friendship between Professor Oak and Yellow! He is, after all, old and mawkish, so he must be in character but in order to do so, Yellow mustn't? I'm really so sorry!**_

**YELLOW: **_**I dunno, it seemed fine to me.**_

**GOLD: **_**WHAT THE-**_

**YELLOW:**_** Sorry, Gold.**_

**GOLD: **_**I can't possibly be a girl, no way!**_

**ME: **_**Sorry, better luck next time, Goldilocks.**_** (SMIRK)**


	7. My Roommate, Red

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

**ME: **_**Well, one reason for a few delays in the future is because my mother's computer (This is the computer I'm using) has some kind of defection. . . Second, because my family's going on a vacation in the biggest island here: Luzon, where our other families live, you know, the usual family reunion. Not like I have a problem with it, no, on the contrary, I love it, but that means I won't continue this for a while T.T **_

**GOLD: **_**Then what?**_

**YELLOW: **_**Er, Nicole-chan just wants to let SS19 know that she liked her review?**_

**ME: **_**Oh, yeah!**_

_**RESPONSE TO REVIEW(S)**_

__**: **_**Thanks for the positive reviews! I was in a state of panic at the ending, (knowing full well that the computer will have been faulty- it happens at some point of the day) but I didn't think someone'd actually like it! Well, thanks again! =) **_

**ME: **_**Huh? Huh? Who's diabolical?**_

**GOLD: **_**Still me. **_

**ME: **_**Says the person whom Yellow said was a girl- nice try, again, Goldilocks.**_

**GOLD:**_** Shut up or die, you-**_

**YELLOW: **_**Vulgar, Gold. **_

**GOLD: **_**You calling me 'Gold' now, eh? Whatever happened to 'Gold-chan'?**_

**YELLOW: **_**What, you prefer that over Goldilocks?**_

**GOLD: **_**Just saying.**_

**DISCLAIMER: **_**Nicole AKA MsCluelessChild owns nothing and no one but Barty in this story**_

**GOLD: **_**Hey! It's my turn!**_

**YELLOW: **_**You were so slow I just can't help it.**_

**ME: **_**HEY! Stop fighting, the chapter's gonna be written!**_

**SIXTH CHAPTER: MY ROOMMATE RED**

"**W**-what?" Red spluttered, looking from Yellow to Professor Oak. Yellow could feel the places where Red's eyes laid upon her face burn with embarrassment. Her fists clenched, she looked everywhere but at Red, whose mouth was now agape from surprise. She adjusted her hat sheepishly, her face blushing red, and bit her quivering lip. Nervous, she looked back at Red again, not smiling, but her heart was beating all the more.

She'd met him again, and now she was going to room with him, according to Professor Oak- and her heart soared, but her stomach did otherwise: something inside it was screaming out of control, and it probably won't shut up soon. She just hoped that he would at least accept that she _was_ going to room with him. Just earlier, he told her she would most likely room with another student- but this was just damn ironic.

"Er, hi?" Goddammit- that was freaking stupid. But she had to say something, anything- just not this. But Yellow's confidence was short-lived, for she swore that this will be the last time she'll speak in front of the both of them.

"You're kidding," he said finally, after a pause, then Yellow's heart sank almost as low as her stomach had. She looked back at Professor Oak, who was surprisingly smiling with- Yellow's body was coursing with both hatred and comforting gratefulness- _mischievousness_.

"_Au contraire_, Redmond," said Professor Oak with a huge smirk plastered on his face which reminded Yellow of Blue, whose smile she had always admired with a creepy retention of- she felt goose bumps erupt down her neck and something was creeping down her spine which should have been the aftermath of the eruption. Professor Oak leaned forward so that his face was inches from Red's nose- Yellow noticed that she had been right: Red _was_ taller than him- though Yellow can't help but not understand why Red didn't wince when he did.

"'_On the contrary?' _" Red repeated, with a tone of astonishment to his voice mixed with anger: Yellow could feel herself shrink. It wasn't that bad rooming with her, is it? Not that she liked it, of course- and the proof for that was because her stomach kept screaming and she couldn't do anything at all to stop it.

She sometimes felt as if the problem was how she was going to sleep. . . Red thinks she's a boy, and now they're going to room with each other. So what now? Was she going to put her hat on while she sleeps, whilst still wearing the bandages to keep her chest down, or will she just cut her hair?

. . .

Now that she thought about it, it was perhaps better to keep her hat on. It wasn't worth the risk. But Red doesn't like rooming with her at all, it appeared to be. Or does he?

She looked at Red's face with curiosity, as if she wasn't already absorbing in too much details: that's odd, all the people here in this island seemed to have extraordinary eye colors, all of the unique ones. . . All of which Yellow had never seen in Kanto, let alone Viridian. And they seemed to have been named after their eye colors. Professor Oak, in closer inspection, had a rich, brown eye color, the color of the bark of the oak's wood. Green had a dazzling emerald eye color, the kind of emerald Yellow sees on television. Red had almost a brilliant, scarlet-crimson eye color, the color which makes you explore his eyes all the more, as if you were hungry. . .

"Yes, Red, on the contrary." Professor Oak's voice made Yellow to snap back into reality and glance away from Red's face shyly, gulping apprehensively. "Because Yellow has no more place to stay, after all, and he doesn't know too much people here. Plus, you could explain to him how Mirage Island works with all the people here."

Yellow looked back at Professor Oak, nearly beside herself with puzzlement and frustration of not understanding, "But, sir, I thought _you_ were going to tell me-"

"Yes, I will," Professor Oak said calmly. Yellow immediately fell silent from his tone, even biting her lip. She didn't realize it, but she was glaring at him with rage and disbelief, momentarily forgetting that Red was there, staring at the both of them with utter puzzlement: more so than Yellow's. "But that doesn't mean that Red won't-"

"Won't tell him _what_?" Red interjected so angrily, so loudly, Yellow winced and blamed herself for his anger and misunderstanding. Yellow shuffled her feet hesitantly, looking at her knees so that she won't accidentally look at them for nothing.

"Mirage Island," said Professor Oak calmly, and he added, spotting Red showing signs of interrupting, which can be noticed easily, "is a place unlike Yellow's been in, and he doesn't quite understand its mechanics."

Yellow's face flushed instantly with a deep shade of pink: she could feel it burn hotly. He must have known this by observing Yellow's questions: she did ask quite a lot. . . Considering the fact she had been outraged because the man had kidnapped her and brought her here. She blinked and continued to stare at her knees fixedly without uttering a single word.

"But what about school?" said Red, and Yellow thought he might have done it with a sort of grimace. She looked up and saw that he, too, was understanding this bit with perplexity, her mouth clamped shut. "I still got school to cope with-"

"Yellow can easily understand, can't you?"

"Hmm?" Yellow squeaked involuntarily. She suddenly forgot her name all of a sudden and hadn't been used to how they call her that with such a spirited gesture. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I can-"

"See?" said Professor Oak with a great amount of dignity. Yellow glanced at Red's face and saw that he was frowning, defeated. She can't help but feel that he didn't like company at all. Though not more than Green does, no one can beat his right of loneliness, not unless Red was there. She smirked at the irony. Red seemed to have some difficulty in saying something with reason and struggled to keep his cool.

"But- but- Oh, fine," he said. Yellow's heart soared high in the air and seemed to want to stay there, and she could feel her whole body shake with excitement and nervousness at the same time, and her heart, still in the air, beat about a million times as hard in her chest to have gotten out, and she was delighted it was free. Then something exploded from her stomach and she couldn't feel it anymore, but the happiness was still lingering, and she thought that she couldn't be happier when he gestured her to get inside, saying, "Feel free. The bed next to the window's mine."

"Thanks a lot, Red!" she said, sliding open the door and, forgetting that Professor Oak was there, it hit his foot and he gasped in pain, though he looked as though he were proud.

"That hurt, a lot," said Professor Oak through gritted teeth, who was already breathing in the air with a sort of proud grimace and watched Yellow enter the dorm as Red chuckled silently. "But at least he's got a place to stay, eh, Red?"

Yellow stepped over several clothes on the floor- careful of stepping on them with her feet that she had stepped on them on tiptoe- and nearly fell down Red's bed and passed the table near his bed, which was being sat on by several pokéballs, all shiny, and absentmindedly made her way to her bed, stretching her arms and staring at the ceiling, finally relaxing after a whole day of hectic conversations.

She stared at the ceiling for a moment, and it had reminded her of home. . . Even the atmosphere reminded her of her quaint little home back in the city of Viridian. Though she'll be feeling much more at home here than what both Gold and Uncle Wilton are feeling right now. . . Where are they, anyway?

The thought itself made Yellow feel uncomfortable. As she gazed at the ceiling, the whispering stopped and she heard a door snap. She sat up bolt upright from the bed and looked at the sliding door: Red had closed it. She notice that Professor Oak left already. Had their conversation only been a short one?

Red massaged his hand and turned around to look at Yellow, smiling. Surprisingly, Yellow smiled back.

"So. . ." he began, a note of carelessness in his voice, almost as if he just wanted to start a conversation- one that isn't as awkward as this was. But Yellow felt comfortable enough, and waited for another word patiently, her hands on her lap. After a while, she could feel the nervousness and tension inside the dorm, and she automatically scratched the back of her neck edgily, gulping. For a second there, she acted as though she knew him for ages, and they were just now reunited- that. . . was stupid. "So- er, there's a huge feast in the Refectory- it's the Fall Festival, see? And- and it's still the first week of the season."

"Refectory?" asked Yellow uncertainly. What in the name of Arceus. . . ? Then she smiled; as she did, she saw a glint in Red's eyes. "That's the cafeteria, right?"

Red smiled sheepishly and said, "Yeah, it is. The members of the Board named it. So," the uneasiness of his voice seemed to have gone away and been replaced by a happier, friendlier one, "wanna come?"

Yellow thought about this for a moment. Her eyes dropped from Red's figure, which was still standing in front of the sliding door, to the blankets and linen of her small bed. She blinked several times while pondering how she was to keep her secret. She'll just have to put her hat on all the time, that's all. But having someone to be curious will give her away. She'll have to keep her guard up all the time, then. Her thoughts were talking with a sort of reasoning tone, but in only a few seconds' time, it turned into an argument inside her head.

_Red's a guy, he'll never get curious unless it's long enough-_

Exactly. He's a guy, and he _will_ find out.

_But he's-_

He's a boy.

_I know _that_, but I trust him-_

You're so naïve.

_You're me._

That's not the point: he'll get suspicious soon and he will find out if you keep that stupid hat on.

_But what if I won't?_

Don't be stupid! It's not worth the risk cutting your hair! You've been trying to grow that for years!

_Exactly._

I don't follow you.

_You don't have to._

Yellow's made her mind up. She nodded her head absentmindedly at no one at all and tilted her head upwards, facing Red. "All right. Just. . . let me unpack first."

"All right!" said Red happily, plopping down his bed and flexing his arms behind his back, sighing. Yellow, curious as she was, tilted her head a few degrees to the right and noticed that his zipper was open- she shook her head dismissively, trying to drive her thoughts away from anything unpleasant, attempting to pay attention to her bag.

She opened it and rearranged her stuff; her bag was holding a lot of things despite its size. Hearing footsteps- which were obviously made by Red- she hastily tried to hide her apprehensiveness and unpacked some of the smaller things she's had in her bag, then she felt a hand grip on her wrist whilst it accidentally let an eraser fall on her bed.

"Need help unpacking?" Red asked, sitting down beside Yellow: she could feel his left hand touch her waist and felt herself blush. She scooted from him a few inches away and hit the wall. Damn, she can't get any further than this. For a second, she thought she was too scared to look at him that she won't even look at him, but she did look at him. She smiled at him with feign agreement but the only thing it did was shadow the reluctance she had.

She just couldn't say no, could she? Or could she?

He smiled as she unlocked the fastener of her belt bag and handed it over to Red with apparent hesitation. Unfortunately, he noticed. "What?"

"Sorry," she said, and she meant it. Yellow gave a nod that meant that Red is welcome to open it, and as he did, Yellow was left to arrange the pencils on the bed and she put it on the table.

"There's a cabinet in the bathroom, you know," said Red knowingly, his face dull with boredom, but his interest in some of Yellow's things- which Yellow had silently agreed to herself that he wasn't giving her much of a privacy as he'd pulled out her stuffed Pikachu doll- was increasing. Yellow raised her eyebrows dubiously until he added, "Mine's just beside my bed."

Yellow thought this was much of an off-day for her. So many things have happened in just a day- who was she kidding? It's been a _week_- and she suddenly rooms with someone she most knows in this island: in fact, one of the only two, and she didn't even know him very well. She thought of something to say for a while- something like, "Thanks for being a friend when I most needed it" but that was just out of the blue: she can't say anything _awkward_. Then again, ever since she's awoken she's been saying a lot of weird stuff that's far from awkward and normal. So, she thought of something short, because he just told her that there was a cabinet in the bathroom, so it's really hard to find something to say about _that_.

"Okay."

That. . . was juvenile.

Yellow jumped off her bed and took a big step over the pile of worn clothes and walked over to the door near her bed and opened the it- she found herself lucky that there was nothing personal to be found here, unlike Gold's bathroom- Gold had several posters of a clad of bikini women inside his. It was just a normal bathroom: white, of course, but it had blue tiles and it looked kind of cute. There was a bath tub at the end of the corner and a toilet near it, and in front of the small toilet was the wooden cabinet Red told Yellow about.

There were carvings at the side and at the front, much like the doors she'd seen earlier at the Hall while walking uncomfortably with Professor Oak. This was peculiar, just bizarre: they were carvings of some sort of pokémon. She groped her hand at the wall and the lights of the bathroom went on: it was clearer in this distance compared to earlier.

Then, realizing what she was doing, she ignored this for a while- she'll have to ask Red that later- and turned to face the cabinet, her hands already at the knobs. Yellow breathed in- she opened it and was silently glad that it was empty. She placed her pencils and a few personal things inside the cabinet's drawers when Red called her at the other room, "Yellow, what's this?"

Yellow raised her eyebrows to no one at all. She glanced at the open door of the bathroom and Red's shadow was holding something small. She furrowed her brows suspiciously and closed the cabinet doors behind her as she stomped out of the bathroom and turned the lights off, pondering what Red found inside her bag-

Halfway there, she already caught a glimpse of what Red was holding before advancing forward and-

What the _fuck_.

Yellow swore quietly, and she thought her heart was about to fail when her eyes- they weren't able to look at anything else out of shock- landed upon the _thing_ Red was holding up, looking at it as though he had never seen it before- of _course_ he's never seen it before.

"Is this a- Is this a-?" spluttered Red, abashed and surprised, stretching it- Yellow's heart was under attack and her stomach began to drop- with a sort of curiosity Yellow never knew before. She watched, shocked, as Red played with it, apparently unbothered by the fact- the _fact_ he didn't _know_- that he was _amusing_ himself with her- with her- with her _stuff_!

She'd never seen someone so curious before-

And, _fuck_ hell, she has never seen someone see her- her _stuff_ let alone _play _with it as if it were nothing at all.

"I haven't seen this before- just now- but, in school, they say this is a-"

"STOP!" Yellow shouted before she could stop herself. And the _thing_ Red was holding up with his two fingers was now dangling, and Red stopped talking the moment she shouted, looking at her incredulously. She didn't care- not now- about how he thinks this was insane, but she felt her heart fail when he held her- her _stuff_ and felt herself lose her virginity at the haste. "It's a- It's a- It's whatever you think it is but it's not mine."

"Of course it's not yours," he said defiantly, as though he already knew it, and Yellow's heart sprang back up but her stomach- which she thought can't sink any lower- bounced deeper into what seemed to be an endless, dark abyss inside her body. Whose did he think _that_ was? "You're not a girl, are you?" - Yellow's heart began to drop endlessly, probably uniting with her stomach right now- "And besides, this can't fit your waist as it can't-"

_She threw something hard at his face instinctively, and she heard a yelp, then a thud. _

_Red's body was now sprawled on the floor, nearly dead after Yellow had thrown him his pokéball, which she swiped from the table, his hand still raised, and her THING was still being clutched by it. _

"That's my girlfriend's."

What the _fuck_ did she just _say_? She should've just gone through by the scene in her mind's eye that just imploded when she automatically said that. Red stared at her for a moment, looking shocked, though his surprise was nothing compared to the one who said it herself.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence, then Red punched her in the arm playfully, unexpectedly, then he said, "Seriously, Yellow, I thought you weren't dirty! And you were already putting your pants into someone else's! Bet you anything you surely screwed her, didn't you?"

Yellow could already feel as if she _was_ being ravished just by being played with Red: he was now ruffling her hair playfully- if not flirtingly, if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't know she was a girl- and hugging her into some kind of wrestling battle- and Red seemed to be enjoying watching Yellow blush from embarrassment not by the lie he thought was true, but he already appeared to be rubbing his chest against her head- then she felt her hat slip and she immediately sat up the bed.

"Okay! O-Okay, Red!" she said, adjusting her hat as Red's laughs subsided- her appetite was decreasing bit by bit: this discussion was getting nowhere but filthy. Red let her go and his head plopped down the pillow of her bed as Yellow, looking disheveled, glared down at him as his silent chuckles exploded. "I could see that you're enjoying yourself- GIVE ME THAT!" she added sharply, snatching her- her _stuff_ from Red's hands and, blushing put it back in her bag- Red laughed louder and she could sense that his hunger was now filled by delight and pleasure of seeing Yellow flustered about her- her _stuff_.

"I think I'm not hungry anymore," he said, still laughing. Yellow literally glared at him, feeling her face burn at the whole while as if a fire broke out: not even _Gold_ touched that. Uncle Wilton didn't even _see_ this stuff, let alone touch it. Gold didn't, too, which was lucky- but _Red_ did. And he didn't just see it or touch it- he actually _played_ with it with his bare hands, and she could feel her virginity being sapped away. . . Her hunger was replaced with utter embarrassment.

"Yellow- hey, Yellow! I'm talking to you, can you hear me?"

Yellow nodded her head and looked at Red with an expression not yet known to humankind: it was hard to describe- she looked at him with a sort of anger in her eye but she tried to look sincerely apologetic but was looking as though she was a bit glad and she furrowed her brows while smiling- though she can't help but add confusion to her emotions because Red seemed to understand what expression this was and smiled back. He punched her in the shoulder again and Yellow could feel a sharp pain there: do boys _always_ do this?

Yellow rubbed her shoulder and demanded playfully, "What was that for?"

"Oh, nothing," said Red, smirking: Yellow can't help but smile too. She pushed him off the bed, thinking this was probably another thing guys do- Gold does it to her: if this wasn't a guy thing then Gold's gay: Yellow silently shuddered. The least gay person she knows is gay-like? That's just bizarre- and Red landed on the side of the bed with a loud thud.

"What was _that_ for?" he demanded: Gold was gay. But Yellow doubted he was and cancelled off her silent bet- she looked at him not playfully like she thought she would but with a look of apology in her face mixed with deterred sheepishness, "I'm so sorry, Red! I didn't mean- my hand slipped!"

That was the stupidest excuse in history ever made and will definitely outrank the later excuses in the future.

"Yeah, yeah," Red moaned, his head already poking up from behind the other side of the bed, his hair more tousled than usual, and for that Yellow was grateful he didn't get mad with her: for one thing, he might shun her from this dorm and she'll be forced to room with someone else- to Yellow's horror, because Red is the only trustworthy person in this school she knew besides Green. She might even be a target right _now_. "I guess I _did_ deserve that."

Yellow giggled: Red raised a skeptical eyebrow and smiled right back almost shyly- she realized this mistake and tried to help Red up, snatching her bag just for good measure: she extended her left hand to him, which he took grudgingly, muttering words under his breath, and she, Yellow, pulled him up with her greatest strength- he really was heavy- and when Red finally got up- Yellow didn't know who _did_ lose their balance first- either of them lost their balance when Yellow heaved him from his dead weight or when Red's foot accidentally hit the bed and- Yellow swore that Red could feel her face burning- he landed on top of- _her_.

For a split of a second, Yellow thought she saw something in Red's eye that glinted: but after that, it reflected her face; she was looking at her own eyes' reflection. She didn't need to know how they were positioned at all, but she already _knew _it by _feeling_ it- and she wished she didn't: the room temperature had lowered and it seemed as if they were staring at each other for a long while now.

Yellow could feel Red's chest move jerkily on top of hers- and she was lucky that the bandages were tight: it would have given her away- and she could feel a sort of tingling within her crotch. . . Her heart beat a thousand times as fast and, despite the room temperature, she could feel her sweat dripping from her forehead down her ear silently: the dorm went quiet, apart from their slow breathing and their heartbeats- Yellow could already _hear _her heartbeat from the silence.

"Sorry- Yellow-" Red began awkwardly, standing up from their position: was it just Yellow or did she notice that Red was blushing? He definitely was, and she didn't want him to: she _really_ didn't want him to: this would just give her away and this might even lose her secret.

Yellow stood up from the bed and muttered, "Bathroom" and walked to the bathroom without looking at Red, who looked quite shocked.

As she strode over the room, not even minding the clothes lain on the floor, and turned the knob of the door, ignoring Red's stutters of apology.

She closed the door with a snap behind her. Literally. Her back, facing the locked door, was sliding- with a screech- to the floor as her legs spread to it. Yellow could hear her breathing echo the bathroom despite Red's muffled footsteps to the door.

She took off her hat and faced the sink's drain unconsciously, thinking what had come over her and what she might have to do to fix it. Red had just landed on top of her and she didn't even say anything to him but, "Bathroom."

What sort of apology was that? Though if she _did_ apologize, then it just might have given her away much more easily. She faced the mirror and noticed that she was a mess despite the dim light: it was dark, though she could still see her own reflection grimacing back at her, her amber-brown eyes full of nervousness and fear.

What if he _did_ realize? Would he tell everyone? Red was a nice guy, after all- but that doesn't mean he can't tattle, does it? She gulped and turned the pipe to the left and it sprayed water to the drain: she washed her face with it and turned it around counterclockwise, her breathing now faster.

When the water touched her face she felt purified again, refreshed- but she was still concerned of her biggest secret. She used to have secrets ages ago, when she was young, though it wasn't this big, and she can't keep it for long, she can't pretend anymore. She wanted to go home.

But this was the only home she's got in this island.

When she was two, Gold nicknamed her 'Riley' from her name, 'Amarillo'. When she was four, she broke Uncle Wilton's vase and blamed Gold for it. When she was seven, she accidentally let go of a Sharpedo her Uncle Wilton had into the ocean and never mentioned it again. When she was nine, she didn't even tell Blue that she, Yellow, had a crush on Blue's crush before. When she was twelve, Gold gave her the Valentine Card she got for Valentines' Day and never told anyone but Blue.

But this was different. This was bigger, it's always been bigger. If they knew she was a girl, then they won't probably help her, won't they? And if she was a girl, then they might. . .

She shook her head from the thought and washed her face again, feeling the tension in the room increase into seriousness. She wiped the water with her sleeve and stared down involuntarily at the drain as it drained down the water into the sewers.

Yellow faced the mirror again: this time, her eyes were blazing. She bit her lip and gazed down at the sink drain once again and thought for this for a moment.

If Red were to know. . . Then wouldn't he keep a secret? He's trustworthy enough, more trustworthy than Gold, even- but_ anyone _can out-trustworthy Gold.

She heard Red's muffled voice from the other side of the door say rather pleadingly, "Yellow! Can you hear me? I'm going to the Refectory now. Want- want to come?"

Yellow wiped the water from her face and breathed in and out. She snatched her straw hat from the corner, tucking all her hair in and unlocked the door, opening it, and it revealed a disconcerted Red.

"My appetite's back," he said almost as if nothing had happened earlier, rubbing his stomach animatedly, smiling sheepishly. "And I'll be needing someone to be with me there- a friend."

A friend. . . Yellow had never heard of this word ever since. She almost missed hearing it and never passed a single day without thinking about it and about family. . .

"Yellow?" said Red uncertainly, peering at Yellow's face.

"Yeah," said Yellow, smiling in spite of herself. "Yeah, let's go eat now."

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

_**ME: I know it was short. Of COURSE I know it was short. And I even used a SWEARWORD in here! Forgive me, everyone!**_

_**GOLD: I dunno, it seemed fine to me.**_

_**ME: Please review and tell me what you think! Dinner's ready!**_


	8. Sexists and Virgins

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Hiya, guys! Guess what? My mom bought me my own computer because of her bribe- a bribe to make me stay at the same school in my first year! Well, I didn't pass in the school I WANTED to go to, but she stayed with the bribe. . . grudgingly, but she loves me! **_

**GOLD: **_**Let go of this, Yellow-san! It's my turn to play Plants VS Zombies!**_

**YELLOW: **_**But Rascal is weak!**_

**GOLD: **_**Just ignore the damn FATE game! Dr. Zomboss is gonna kill my YARD!**_

**ME: **_**BE QUIET! I'M WRITING A STORY HERE! Anyway, it's been long since I submitted a chapter- and last chapter, I got more reviews than usual, so thanks! It took me like, thirty minutes to type that and dinner was already being served, and the day after that, we'll have to leave the house. So yeah, hectic, isn't it?**_

**REPLY TO REVIEWS**

**SS19: **_**Thanks! Yup, it took me a LOT just to think of something big just to make the chapter look nice, because of its length and how short it was, but it went out pretty well. **_

**Pikachu127: **_**=D I don't know what to say =D**_

**ME:**_** All right, who'll do the disclaimer?**_

**YELLOW: **_**I did it last time.**_

**GOLD: **_**All right! **_

**DISCLAIMER: MsCluelessChild owns nothing and no one but Barty here. So don't accuse her if you think she owns anything. . . Though she owns the idea of the story =P**

**ME: **_**Here I go!**_

**THE EIGHTH CHAPTER: SEXISTS AND VIRGINS**

**A**s soon as Red had closed the sliding door, Yellow could feel the breeze sweep by them violently, and she heard the waves splash at the shore: were they that close to the ocean? Wait. There _mustn't_ be an ocean here, must there? This island was banished from the world seperate from hers. . .

"Curious?" Yellow winced and remembered that Red was behind her. Yellow skidded to a halt between splutters of surprise when he appeared right beside her, pulling on his jacket with a sort of bemused expression on his face, smiling at her- she could have sworn she had melted at the spot and bit her lip, looking down fixedly at her feet.

"About what?" Yellow asked, rubbing her shoulder sheepishly, looking away and turning to the trees just to not make it obvious that she was blushing- it was really cold here.

"About something, that's for sure," said Red slyly- though it was crude, Yellow could still feel as if Gold was smiling down at her. She grimaced as Gold crept inside her thoughts again. She let go of her lower lip and nodded slowly, looking down from Red's face to the ground.

"I. . . just remembered my cousin," she mumbled weakly- truthfully, but was she ashamed of saying it? Even scared? Why should she? She could feel her face warm up as Red bended to her height, facing her with those careful, kind eyes- the eyes that always made Yellow melt at its sight.

"Hey, I don't blame you. But it seems as if missing your cousin isn't the only thing you're feeling right now. Mustn't you be hungry, asleep all those days?" he teased- though Yellow had never heard Red's voice so right: she could feel her stomach growl with anger and it lurched every now and then, roaring with hunger.

"R-right," said Yellow, biting her lower lip, feeling the pain in her stomach grow into a monster so rapidly, sheepishly. "I guess I _am_ hungry."

Of _course_ she was hungry. She felt hungry since she sat on Red's bed. Had she forgotten that too? Yellow's insides were squirming insecurely with guilt and sheepishness somewhat. She could feel cold blood rush through her veins coursing to her brain and felt her head getting heavy by the heavy weight of blood. What she says in this island is all to break the tension, it seems.

. . .

Though most of her times here whenever she talks doesn't have any tense moments, she only _thinks_ that the tension is blooming through paranoia and suspicion. Why not- really? She's stranded on an island (_yet_ again) full of strangers she doesn't know and Red was one of them.

"I am, too," said Red sheepishly, after the both of them heard a faint sound of a growl of his stomach- she wanted to laugh, but was afraid to cope with another giggle; she remained silent, a faint smile on her face- she hopes he doesn't get the wrong idea.

"Shall- shall we get going, then?" she said awkwardly, as she picked up her pace, already a few yards from Red, who was standing beside a small tree, his hands in his pockets, looking at her with a weird expression that sort of expresses fondness: Yellow's insides were roaring and tightening its grip on itself.

"Oh yeah, it's right in the Hall, the door to the left," said Red, his shoulders now raised to their full height- now they were just below his ears, following Yellow, who halted into a stop, shivering. The huge door to the-? Was that the door that she saw that had weird carvings?

And then a question flicked in Yellow's mind like a candle. She raised her head, and saw a group of older students pass by them- older than _her_, of course, because they looked shorter than Red did. She could ask Red whatever she wanted, couldn't she?

The group of boys greeted Red as they passed him by, smiling. She did nothing but smile weakly, watching as Red muttered a "hi" to them. They appeared to be no more nor less than a clad of senior boys, all wearing the same outfit, though with different styles. But when they were passing by her, she saw that they scowled silently, and murmured to themselves darkly, walking to the other side of the road near the bushes.

"Red. . ." she said, her breathing slow as the temperature lowered as night fell, the sky now dark. She guessed that Red could barely even hear her from the low mutterings of the group of jocks, and was embarrassed to say something more, but went on, trying to ignore their dark murmurs as they passed by: they were decreasing their volume now, anyway, "I. . . I wanna ask you something- let's just walk there while we're at it," she added, seeing Red's apprehensive attempts to skid to a halt while his stomach- though Yellow doubted his was hungrier- growled.

"M'kay," said Red, now catching up with her, his hands still in his pockets, and biting his lips to keep it from the cold. "Sure, Yellow."

Yellow felt a shiver run down her spine and tried to conceal it from Red- she was feeling envious of Red for having a jacket and wished she'd brought hers, but was lucky she didn't, because her bag can't hold any more stuff.

"Well," she began loudly, then lowered her volume sheepishly, remembering that she didn't know anyone well here- she kicked a rock and it rolled forward, stopping abruptly when it reached a patch of grass. She felt Red's body near her and- she had no choice; if she'll edge away, it'll look suspicious- plus, Red's body was pretty warm, and Yellow was afraid that if she won't get close to him- not that she _wanted_ to- she'll get frost bite- leaned a _bit_ closer. "Umm. . . Green said that I'm partly right that there are only guys on this island. . . and I. . . I just wanna ask- if you don't mind- I mean, Green told me already, but I want to know more- if it's true?"

She felt her body quiver in the cold and edged her way from Red finally, sheepish. She dug her hands in the pocket of her pants hastily- that was what her Uncle and Gold do all the time. Yellow wanted to avoid Red's eyes as more as she wanted to get in the warmth of the school- speaking of which, they were closer there right now. She looked at the great wall behind the bushes- this wall was what seemed to seal the school, and the wall that secured the Access.

"That's. . . true," muttered Red, biting his lip- so surprisingly, he spoke- Yellow thought he wouldn't, and half-hoped he won't- she looked up, amazed. She knew it- but why? Does banishing Mirage Island mean that the male population is- by a reverse of a familiar theme- _weaker_ than the female's? Or. . . it _wasn't_ banished. Maybe Mirage Island banished itself. . .

"How so?" she asked suddenly- so suddenly she was surprised herself, but she was glad she did, but she wanted to add more to that question.

Red tapped Yellow's shoulder; they were at the foot of the staircase leading to the gate- _Gateway_- and Yellow was just about to trip- she felt Red's hand's grip on hers loosen when she leaned to keep her balance slowly, muttering a low mutter of "thanks" but it appeared to have come out as, "thmmks".

Red gestured Yellow to the stairs of the Gateway and she nodded nervously, lifting her foot to the first step quietly, though inside her intenstines were burning with embarrassment.

She wanted to say something back- _anything_- but Red was already on the second step near the bars of the staircase, sliding his right hand up and down it- she followed sheepishly beside him, listening to him saying, "I don't know much, to tell you the truth- Green knows plenty more- _loads_- you could ask him- but as he's not here, I'll tell you all I know- The professors said that when the time and space of this island seperated from Hoenn, the people here _banished _the famele-"

"_Female_," muttered Yellow quietly, lifting her foot to the fifteenth step- they didn't study about _women_, did they? If they had, Yellow thought that Red didn't pay much attention in class and almost took this as an insult.

"- yeah, that- female population and once a month every two years, they abduct a girl- preferably a teenager, no older than twenty or so-"

"_What_?" Yellow spat- she slipped the twenty-third step and was lucky she didn't hit the last step up- what the goddamn hell was he talking about, crap?

Hold it- _Abduct_, _abduct_- the person who abducted her was from Mirage Island. . . He was _supposed_ to abduct her? "Why the- _why_?"

Red raised his eyebrows, surprised, taking his last step up, his right hand had stopped sliding up and down the bars of the stairs. Yellow looked at him incredulously. He took several steps to her, never taking his eyes off her face as his lips curled into either an amused or bemused smile,

"Why?" he repeated, still smiling, escorting her inside: she nodded her head furiously at the door, though she didn't know how rudely she reacted to Red. "I suppose you _should_ know the ugly truth. And-" he added, seeing the glint in Yellow's eyes, moving his finger left and right jeeringly front of Yellow, already inside the school, "- I'll tell you right now, just because you're _quiet_."

Yellow couldn't feel the need for him to joke, but he was right, she needed to relax. She went in after Red into the school, shielding her eyes from the sudden abundance of light, squinting her eyes and followed Red as he went on, taking off his jacket: she blushed and looked away pointedly, pretending to look interested at the interior: it never changed much, just the change of lighting.

"What ugly truth?" Yellow asked, creasing her eyebrows as she glanced away from a portrait held up near the entrance she didn't notice before; it was a painting of several naked bodies strangled together, and Yellow was made to look away forcefully, blushingly: Red was looking at her fondly for one second then glanced away quickly; or was it just her imagination?

"The fact that the people here are men is in accordance with how we only allow women once a month every two years," murmured Red, sighing when he said the last few words, turning his heel to look at Yellow on the spot with a sort of grimace. Yellow stood her ground this time and didn't look away- he went on ruthlessly, "Let's talk about it while we get there. I'm damn hungry."

At this, Yellow can't control her laughter: she was fortunate she didn't giggle, but stifled a chuckle. Red can't help but smile weakly as well: he gestured Yellow to walk beside him as he continued to talk in the Hall, where it was so quiet that their footsteps alone can make echoes, "You're from Hoenn, right?"

"Nope, Kanto," said Yellow, glancing sideways at a few classrooms they'd passed while walking down the Hall, thinking it best to avoid Red's eyes.

"Okay, then," said Red dismissively, breathlessly. Yellow raised her eyebrows curiously: do all boys do this? She took one look at his face innocently and glanced away hastily, embarrassed. She was being too obvious. He breathed out and continued, "Well, I bet you're wondering _when_ the time in Hoenn seperated from Mirage Island by now at least. Because that was over fifty years ago, when Professor Oak was- believe it or not- only a boy! A-anyway, moving on, the legend and the theories of the professors are at a clash; they are arguing over the truth. 'Specially Professor Oak, he saw it all, but he just can't believe it, he sticks with his theory."

"I've heard from Professor Oak about the legends and theories," muttered Yellow quietly, she didn't want to know more about how they fight about the truths. . . That. . . was unbelievable. They'd already passed the checkpoint of the Hall and were on their way to the left side; Yellow recalled the horrible mutterings of the crowd. . . She shuddered and jogged a few steps to catch up with Red: one step of his is already three to her- he seemed to be talking to himself, apparently thinking that Yellow was still beside him.

". . . couldn't believe what he'd seen, still thinks that all that weather crap is true, I think it is, but that doesn't explain why Mirage Island's been banished from the time and space of Hoenn, can you believe that? Oh, right, _women_- the answer to that is the other elder guys- about nineteen or so- all abduct a few girls- I already told you the age- to- we can't continue life without increasing population- have _reproduction_ with the abducted girl-"

"_SEX_?" Yellow gasped- she could feel her heart leap a thousand miles above the atmosphere and her stomach drop fifty universes below sea level, and something from within her crotch began to squirm painfully, unexpectedly- _lecherously?_

They _abduct_ a girl to make _babies_ to increase population. . . ? Red held a finger to her lips as he cornered her to a wall- her face was burning with embarrassment but her rage for Mirage Island was building, so she'd have to put aside her embarrassment for a while: she glared at Red with a look of disbelief plastered on her face: she felt her woman pride sap away from her and it was replaced by a sexist anger- _they_ should talk, _they_ use women, don't they, those filthy-

"Look, Yellow," said Red quietly, glancing at a group of boys who all seem to be younger than the both of them pass by- Yellow didn't care, she scowled at Red, and frowned angrily: this was just damn unfair, this wasn't justice, it's a crime, it must be- "Don't get mad- I know you love your girlfriend-"

Yellow's stomach did a somersault: she forgot she was supposed to act a boy and her rage became surprise.

"- it must be hard for you, I'm sure- but after they. . . they-"

"Rape, ravish, kidnap, steal, unvirginize, corner in a bed, the poor girls' butt being stuck with their-" whispered Yellow angrily, as another group of boys passed by, looking at them curiously- her woman pride's anger building up yet again, though before she could say anything else, Red interrupted her.

"Don't continue that," he snapped quietly, though there was a note of panic in his voice- he glanced behind them and was smiling nervously at the group and, after they continued humming to the refectory, he glared menacingly at Yellow. "Don't get mad at me again- don't look at me like that!- because they wipe their memories clean after that and return her back- if the girl is pregnant with a girl baby, we'd just raise the baby anyway and throw her off back to Hoenn when she's old enough and wipe her memory as well-"

"_It takes a woman nine months to be pregnant with a baby!_" said Yellow through gritted teeth- the sexist pride the bastards have in this island here was huge- she bets anyone anything of hers that they even cheat on the girls here and go off to another girl and stick their damn-

"Do you remember what I've told you?" said Red, shaking Yellow by the shoulders violently, pulling her closer.

Yellow considered this for a moment. She racked her brains: nothing.

"I told you that the time here on Mirage Island shifts every now and then, and whenever the time here increases its speed-"

". . . the time of pregnancy becomes rapid along with it," Yellow finished quietly. "But-"

"They have a kind of pok'emon here that time travels, which means that it can fast forward the night the parents fucked each other to the date of birth of the child, get it? Which means that every millisecond that pok'emon speeds up the girl's stomach enlarges by two percent until the baby is born- and if the baby is female, they fuck again until they get a boy- after that, they reverse something using that pok'emon and the girl's virginity has never changed and they return her at the same second they left her somewhere in Hoenn-"

"That's a sick way of fucking a girl then leaving her, it's a win-win for the guy all the same- if they get a girl of a baby all the time, he can fuck the girl all night every few minutes till they get a boy- Red, if I should know better, you can't even _wait_ to get the chance to do it as well- you're not only not against it but you're actually defending the idea," Yellow went on shakily, angrily, unabashed, seeing the horrid look on Red's face: she remembered that she had been abducted and feared that she _had _been raped: but she was lucky she had her hat on- but the thought crept inside her mind like a spider crawling on your skin.

They stared at each other for a long time in silence. Yellow could already feel Red's breath hit her face every second, and she guessed that he could hers as well. Their eyes were locked to each other the whole while, and yet Yellow couldn't feel any more sympathy as she had the last time: Red's eyes reflected Yellow's and she could see right there that she looked both frightened and threatening.

Red's eyes were striking with terror and rage; he looked as frightened as Yellow was, and Yellow didn't want to say anything further. She didn't want to cause Red any more pain: he must be born of a mother he didn't even know. She, of course, felt the same- almost.

She could feel Red trembling, and she didn't know whether she was the one to let themselves go right now when Red's arms raised themselves from Yellow and leaned backward: she slid herself up and stood to her full height, looking fixedly at the floor, not daring to look up at Red from anger.

Then the both of them heard footsteps toward them, but neither of them looked around to find out who, then a shadow had appeared inside Yellow's sight as she looked down: the figure, judging from his or her shadow- no, _his_- had spiky hair, his hands dug in his pockets. . .

"Red!" said Green, as Yellow looked up, seeing in time Green shaking Red's shoulder by the hand- his other had already been lifted from his pocket- but Red didn't give the slightest that he'd heard Green at all. "What are you doing here? You should be-"

"I'm not eating," Red said quietly, grudgingly: he took on glance at Yellow then darted his eys back at the ground, almost afraid to look at her. Green, however, looked as if he wanted to insist Red on doing so when he caught sight of Yellow: she was glaring at the both of them.

"What- you're rooming with him?" he said suddenly. Yellow scowled and didn't say anything, staying quiet. Her breathing was slow and she felt her mouth go dry; she can't say anything to him. She's never felt so angry in her life, and in front of a stranger who very well was the person she most knows in this island compared to the other sexist jerks out here.

"I'm not hungry either," she said unexpectedly, still not looking at any of them- but she should've thought that one through: if the both of them weren't hungry, then they'd be back in the dorm without looking at each other, let alone talk at all.

"Then go back to your dorms then, you can't do anything round here anymore."

The second those words escaped from Green's mouth, Red looked at her with complete horror and hatred. Yellow couldn't agree with him more; Green was the most idiotic bastard in the world, the ignorant jerk. Didn't he notice that they were glaring at each other?

The both of them stared at each other, and Yellow's rage was decreasing, though the indignance was still right there, somewhere. . . She could see that Red's was, as well, replaced by sympathy and forgiveness- but Yellow sensed that she must be careful of what she'll say some time in the future.

"We will," said Red firmly, though under his breath; it was pure understanding to know that he, too, still had a small grain of anger within him- Yellow can't blame him. On the contrary, she was feeling guilty herself. Red must have been furious when she said that. Hold on- was she even right? He was defending the idea, after all. . . No, more than that, he even cornered Yellow to a wall just to prove the point. . .

"Yellow, let's go," said Red so suddenly his voice alone made Yellow to snap back to reality. Green looked as if he was about to interrupt, then Yellow's own voice unexpectedly spoke before she could even think of what to say, flatly, but her voice sounded close to tears, "Bye, Green."

Red seized her hand coldly and he left the scene without another word- and Yellow didn't dare speak the whole way back, too upset and guilty to talk, her eyes looking down the ground fixedly.

* * *

><p>Red slid the door violently, as Yellow sat down her bed, kicking her boots off her feet, then stood up again, lifting them to where they're going to be put up the whole night. She heard Red's footsteps nearing her position and didn't say anything, hoping Red wouldn't as well, because she had had enough uncomfortable talks this night, and she can't stand any more.<p>

She piled her boots to the nearest corner and sat down the bed again, staring at the wall guiltily, rubbing her shoulder. Yellow pulled off her yellow-orange torso that reached her knees off and folded it neatly: she'd learned how to do this whenever her Uncle Wilton went to the laundry store to pick up some clothes. . . Everything she ever learned how to do was all up to him- she never knew her mother nor father well. . . _Gold_ taught her all she knew to be bad and perverse.

She heard Red stifle a sigh: she wheeled around and froze.

"Don't take _that_ off in front of me!" she said loudly, sheilding her eyes. Red stopped immediately and pulled back his shirt on, embarrassed, muttering, "Right- I knew that, sorry."

As soon as he pulled it back on, Yellow lowered her hands, staring at Red with curiosity: he looked more embarrassed than she did when he- he- he played with her _stuff_. He strode across the room, his left hand carrying what seemed to be a clean shirt, to the bathroom: was he going to sleep early?

He opened the door of the bathroom, turning the knob, and closed it with a slightly apologetic look on his face without speaking. Yellow sighed and didn't say anything else, but wished she did. . .

Now, all she needed to worry about was how to keep her hat on while they were both sleeping. . . Cutting her hair was too risky, that won't work. She just had to cope with her hat on. . . and she will have to wake up early to get to the bathroom earlier than Red will, because if Red barges in accidentally. . .

Yellow shook her head from the thought, thinking she just needs sleep. She lied down the bed and searched the bedside table for her bag: yep, it was here. She groped within it and didn't find what she was looking for: she had to sleep with what she had worn all week.

She sighed in defeat and thought that there was nothing she could do. She rolled around the bed and plopped down the pillow- hitting the side of the table accidentally.

"Ow, what the-?"

The door of the bathroom opened, as Yellow rubbed her neck sorely.

"Waddappened?" he said, bubbles in his mouth, his hair looking unusually neater. Yellow sat up and didn't think it was the best time to answer yet: her head was feeling so sore. . . Come to think of it, first it was her cheek and now her head.

"Nothing, I just hit my head," she said, rubbing her head, her right eye closed. Wait- was that a toothbrush he was holding? And why was his hair wet? "What're you doing?"

"Oh, just hygiene," he said simply, shrugging: he had now changed his clothing. Red went back inside the bathroom, looking sheepish, humming to himself in a sweet voice. As Yellow watched silently, her sympathy stretched and she had never felt so curious the whole time she had here.

She stood up and plucked her courage to go in the bathroom. Since the door was open, she didn't need to open the door: as she entered, she spotted Red in front of the sink, washing his face with water. Yellow can't help but admire the way he whipped his hair around whenever it was wet. . .

"Red. . ." she said, looking down at her feet: she didn't want Red to see her looking sad, did she? She'll just cause him trouble further. . . he hasn't eaten his dinner and neither has she. . . "I'm sorry."

Red turned on the spot to look at her, wiping his face with the towel he carelessly picked from the corner- Yellow blushed and played with her feet, looking at the floor fixedly. She didn't want to lie to herself or to anyone at all: Red looked cute when his hair was wet.

"Really, 'cause I don't know why," said Red playfully, putting up his best smile. Yellow blushed and looked away hastily again: he forgave her? "Whatever happened today was just a huge misunderstanding, 'kay?"

"But your dinner. . ."

"Nah, there's still lasagna left in the fridge here," he said, still smiling. Yellow couldn't believe him. She still wasn't convinced. She's known him less than a day and he _forgave_ her? Red suddenly frowned and walked over to her side.

"Now, what're you gonna do with your head?" he asked: Yellow looked at him stupidly. She forgot-

"O-oh! This is nothing!" she spluttered, massaging her head- she had her other hand support her straw hat to keep it on; it was slipping. "There's nothing you could do about it- I'm used to it- see? It's nothing at all!"

Red shrugged. He threw the towel to the rack like a- like a. . . like an ordinary boy. . . This thought had never occurred to Yellow yet, but he tended to act like an ordinary boy even though he's never lived with a mother, ever. . . She sometimes even wondered why he was a bit different, because he was nicer than some. . . He helps her through a lot, and he seemed to be as frightened as Yellow was right now- did he have a past so horrible she couldn't even imagine of it? But everyone was friendly to him, so he wasn't ever bullied. . . Or was it, maybe, possibly, _Green_? Nope, couldn't be. To tell herself the truth, Yellow thought to herself as Red walked passed her, singing to himself quietly, Red was the one who seemed to trouble Green, not the other way around.

"You gonna sleep already?" she asked, closing the door behind her, and undressing herself: just because she was gonna sleep with her hat on doesn't mean she was going to sleep with the bandages on and still wearing her- Yellow flinched- her bra.

"Yep, no point watching television if the shows repeat themselves."

Yellow shrugged: he was right. As she stripped her turtle-neck off, she immediately locked the bathroom door: she didn't want Red peeking, not one bit. God, she lost a lot of weight; she didn't eat for a week, did she?

She stretched her hand behind her back and tried to unlock her bra in between the- _Click_. She got it.

Good, now she just has to stow this away where Red will never find it. _Ever._ She pulled her turtle-neck on again and adjusted her torso carefully, then walked over to the front of the cabinet, opening it, then pulled a drawer and tossed it there, pushing the drawer back and closed the doors of the cabinet again when she recalled something, snatching her hat from the corner and putting it on.

"Red? Can I ask you something?" she said, opening the door of the bathroom after unlocking it. When she opened the door cautiously- loudly, admittedly, though- Red was lying on his pillow on his bed, his hands reflexed behind his head, looking at her with his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, sure."

Yellow's heart skipped unexpectedly. She walked over to her bed and didn't look at Red once while doing so- she just walked straight forward. She lied down her bed with her arms outstretched and stared at the ceiling, whispering, though she was sure Red heard her, "Who were the ones that were supposed to snatch a girl?"

Red seemed to have been thinking deeply because it took him a while to answer, and before he did, Yellow detected that he was telling her what wasn't supposed to be told: he clicked his tongue before sighing and said, "Some older guys- guys that already graduated."

Yellow braced herself for this question, and closed her eyes to not look; she already knew his reaction before he will even reflex, "What'll happen if a student will do the reproduction cycle?"

There was a pause which Yellow had expected would happen- an uncomfortable one- that made Yellow wish she hadn't asked. When she opened her mouth to apologize, Red replied unblushingly, "Well- I honestly don't know. But if it's done, it's done, I guess. You can't change what's been done- if it's done correctly, I mean. But that means that the person that did it won't be able to do it again for a matter of years, I think."

Yellow was surprised that the answer hadn't left Red blushing. She sat up from her pillow and looked at Red with a sort of confused look on her face: she just doesn't _get_ him, "What do you mean? Do you know who's done it before?"

Red shrugged as his eyes remained closed: he didn't seem to be interested in the subject although he knew much about it, "Nope, not anyone I know. All those kinds of questions are all in our _Reproductive Laws_ book."

Yellow stared at him incredulously. They've been studying _woman_ health? Does that mean that having- having- having _it_ with someone needs profound learnings and practices on this island? "You _study _this kind of thing- No, wait."

She just realized something she'd missed. She'd known this all along- she just forgot it, and she hopes Red will answer this one, because it includes the fact what happened to her while she was unconscious all the week.

"Red. . . when was the last time the older guys kidnapped a. . . a girl?" she asked slowly- it must have been-

"Just last week." Yellow could feel her heart finally breaking free from its chambers and already high in the sky. Her whole body went numb, and her brain seemed to stop working. . . "They also said that they were lacking one girl. First time in history. And guess what? The guy who let her get away was my friend-"

"Who is it?" she asked hurriedly: her heart was thumping wildly out of her chest and she could feel excitement blooming in her whole body- nothing seemed to be next to it. She wanted to know. . . The guy who didn't- no, who _rescued_ her from facing the whole island the truth about her true gender- must be her savior- and he must have refused to have- have- have _it_ with her- she wanted to know why exactly he captured Yellow from Sky Pillar- if he just wanted to check on how good Yellow looks, then Yellow was never more grateful of how fertile she was and will never complain ever again, she didn't even wanted to know if he was shallow or not.

"Bill," said Red, yawning, stretching his arms. Something very large and heavy hit Yellow on the head: this wasn't a precise answer at all, but when she opened her mouth to ask, Red already went on, "I think you know him- he's the guy in the group that passed by us earlier when we were walking to the Refectory. You know him- you saw him, I caught you looking at him."

This, however, was false. She wasn't ogling at Bill at all- she was a bit preoccupied with Red's face she didn't notice.

"I wasn't," Yellow whispered- but she wished she really was looking at him, because she wanted to know if he knew that she was a girl, truly, or whether he made a mistake-

"Hold on," said Red, sitting on his bed with his legs folded, excitement rising in his voice. "How'd you get here?"

"What?"

"How'd you get here?" Red repeated- and Yellow caught a tone of suspicion in it. She couldn't tell him _that_, not when her biggest secret was about to be unfolded if she did.

"Er, I was searching for this old man on an island my family and I got stranded on, and then I met him at the top of Sky Pillar, and Mirage Island was on top of the both of us, and there was this sandstorm and I felt myself being dragged off by someone," she said, trying not to mention who that exactly was: that was a lie, and had some truths in it. A voice in Yellow's mind whispered something in her ear; _ambiguous._

She waited for Red's answer quietly.

"You must be him!" Red said sudddenly, gasping in surprise. Yellow raised her eyebrows.

"Who?" she asked; she really was feeling as if she was missing something here. . .

"The person Bill snatched whom he thought was a girl! That answers everything!"

Yellow could feel a sort of uneasiness in her body that made her wince. She was about to ask "I am?", but thought it tactless, so what came out was, "That answers everything, too. . ."

"Oh, well," said Red, plopping down his pillow again, all the excitement gone. Yellow shrugged and felt that that was a crappy way to end a discussion and lied down her bed and raised the covers to her head so that she won't be able to be overhear what Red was saying about Bill, "he really was sort of a prissy-"- he chuckled then went on- "But the elders say that he knows all what must be learned and thought it necessary for him to do the privilege to do so. But I think he was highly pleased to know that who he captured was a boy, not a girl, because he had an excuse to not do it."

But Yellow was preoccupied with her thoughts. . . Red seemed to be in a pretty good mood now. And he wasn't even mad when Yellow apologized to him. She can't even imagine a boy like that so nice even after she's insulted him.

But when she replayed the words she'd said in her head, she could feel a twinge of jealousy. . . Had she been right? _Was_ he waiting for that oppurtunity? She never did ask how old he was- though he was definitely older than she was: he still acts like a teenager is proof enough . . She had been kidnapped by someone she didn't know. . . A stranger, no doubt- though she knew his name, Bill, that's pretty much all she knew about him. . . But had Red been lying that he was prissy? . . . Or maybe not. Because if he was telling the truth, and Bill was only _telling _him he didn't rape Yellow, then. . . it might have been possible that he _had_ raped Yellow.

In Mirage Island, you don't know whom to trust or whom to befriend. All you know is what you _don't_ think you know, and that's when suspicion rises.

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: _That was nothing but tiring! Seriously! And I had only finished doing my new video in YouTube! But I advise you guys not to watch it, the ending of this chapter is happier than of that video. Anyway, thanks for taking time to read this, guys! _**

**YELLOW:_ I don't have any WildCoins left._**

**GOLD: _Me neither._**

**ME: _You don't need it, really. HEY! STOP MAKING ME SKIP THE SUBJECT! I can't say "anyway" all the time with you guys! So please tell me what ya think! Have a happy summer!_**


	9. Dirty Little Secrets

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Thanks for the review, Pika127! Yeah, I've been thinking the same, too. But in the later chapters, it's all gonna be mellow and nothing censored's gonna happen, actually, because methinks censored is not supposed to be shown in the internet, especially where it's somewhere detailed- like a story. So thanks!**_

**GOLD: **_**I think that chapter was AWESOME!**_

**ME: **_**Thanks, Gold, but I think I explained too much, actually. . . **_

**YELLOW: **_**It's a bit overdone, don't you think?**_

**ME: **_**Don't I THINK? I KNOW! But this is pretty much the- what's the word?- tensest chapter I'll come up with so no more obscene languages in later chapters, really, and (thankfully) no censored language or- um, actions.**_

**GOLD: **_**Are you actually considering someone's deci-**_

**ME: **_**What? NO! That's never happened before, and it never will! But considering the language in this story, I think it really IS for older than thirteen. . . Though I'll have to consider fifteen-year-olds because I've heard they could be the harshest swearword talkers. Most sixteen-year-olds pretty much become quieter as the year approaches. **_

**YELLOW: **_**I'M fifteen in this story-**_

**ME: **_**Exactly! But you're more of the Angel-type. Gold seems to be the Devil-type and he seems more compatible with swearwords- but, in this story, you grew up with him as cousins.**_

**YELLOW: **_**Er, that's not a- you think I'm fit to be GOLD-LIKE in this story?**_

**ME: **_**Is that an option? Because it's not. Not to me, at least. I'm just going WAAAAY too overboard about this story. Sorry, readers. Just a bit hung up. I know I'm an idiot. **_

**GOLD: **_**Overruled by power, dude.**_

**ME: **_**Something like that. So, er, please don't get mad at me. I'll shut up now (holds breath) Oh, and before I shut up, I'm surprised no one noticed the flaw I did last chapter! Oh, you'll find out soon. REAL soon. Just read the chapter number. Oh, another mistake of mine is that I wrote "pok'emon" than the usual, because it's hard to type with my new laptop. . . So I guess I'll type it as "pokemon" now.**_

**EIGHTH CHAPTER: DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS**

_**"W**__hat the fudge, Yellow! You broke the vase!" Gold cried, running towards her and the bits of the scattered vase her uncle's grandmother had passed on to him. _

_"I-it was an accident!" she said, her eyes widening, taking several steps from the table slowly. It wasn't her fault! Technically, it _was_, but it wasn't on purpose! _

_"Ooooh, Yellow-san! You're gonna be in trouble!" her cousin jeered playfully, apparently trying to make the mood brighter: it wasn't helping. Yellow's eyes were already filled with tears and she didn't know what to do: they were in her second-cousin's house and she just broke a vase that wasn't supposed to be touched. . . She's gonna be in so much trouble, Gold was right. . ._

_She let her tears fall to the floor and closed her eyes, still sobbing, but more loudly and more tears had trickled down her cheek. She felt Gold's arm wrapped around her neck and cried on his shirt, sniffing. _

_"G-Gold-chan, what am I g-gonna d-do?" she hiccupped then looked up at Gold's face, which looked down to gaze at her eyes. He's going to find a solution, she's sure, he always does, and she never gets to repay him. . . _

_Gold lifted her chin, looking at her cheekily, smirking. "I think I know what to do." _

_He sprinted to the door hastily and Yellow heard footsteps fainting away- he was climbing the staircase. _

_She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve and sat on the floor, eying the house carefully, like what an ordinary child would do. An ordinary old house with broken windows (all of which Gold had proudly claimed credit for) and creaking floors. . ._

_What was that thing? It looked like a ball of some sort. What were Auntie Gracie and Kevin-san doing with that? It was round. . . and it looked interesting. It's of the color red and white, and has a smaller ball in the middle. . . Was this even dangerous? It didn't look it. And Kevin-san seemed to be a responsible boy, so it surely can't be dangerous, and if Auntie Gracie saw this, she'd confiscate it, but it just lied there, sitting on the table. . . tempting her. _

_Yellow's curiosity was always huge, and she was never as eager as this before. She wiped her tears once more and hesitated. What if she got into more trouble? Uncle Wilton will be to blame. And he would be mad at her. . . She thought twice about this. She glanced furtively at the door; Gold seemed to be taking his time up there. Then she glanced at the table, where the interesting ball had been lying. . . It seemed to be welcoming her to use it. _

_She shook her head after she took a step closer. Yellow shouldn't do this, it was wrong. She's going to be punished again. But it won't hurt to look, will it? _

_Over and over again, she convinced herself it was safe and it wasn't going to hurt her. Finally, once she bribed herself to get a slice of cake after this, she scampered to the middle of the living room, the floor creaking loudly, but she didn't notice that from excitement. _

_Yellow lifted herself on the soft, cushiony chair and reached for the table near the arm of the chair and stretched her hand to snatch it from the table-_

_"Whoops," she whispered, noticing that her feet were already on the arm of the chair and she felt her weight lifting her down._

_She fell down the chair by sliding on the table but she got the ball she wanted, so it wasn't in vain, and- for once- nothing broke! What a miracle!_

_She sat up with her feet folded and, with her other hand massaging her sore head, but its soreness will soon go away as soon as she takes a bit out of that cake. She imagines the taste and licks her lips._

_"Hmm. . ." she said slowly, holding the ball up to eye-length. It looked stranger than other balls. She let her fingers run against the interesting-looking ball and scratched her chin thoughtfully. She clicked her tongue and almost gave up when her thumb accidentally pressed against the button in the middle that was in accordinance of the black line that seperated the red and white parts of the ball- a red stream of light escaped from the ball, which was now open, and something huge emerged from it. _

_"Whoa!"_

_The creature had let out a roar and stretched its arms gleefully, apparently pleased of its open space. It had one, two. . . _

_"Amazing! You've got three hands!" she gasped, walking over to it: it was as weird-looking as the ball it's escaped from: almost as strange as those weird creatures Uncle Wilton brings over to their house every time he comes back after a fishing trip. . . She can't exactly remember what they're called, but he did say that they're peaceful._

_The creature smiled mischieviously at her and she realized that he was using his hand (the other hand- the hand in its tail) for standing- or sitting- up. He extended his hand and Yellow shook it with a grin._

_"Hello," she said happily, stroking its head: its ears twitched cheerfully and the creature snuggled itself against Yellow's cheeks, making her giggle. Her Uncle mentioned creatures' names, but she didn't fully understand it, and let alone remember it. They were gentle, yes- but he didn't say that they were sweet. The creature rubbed its ears against Yellow's head and it sproinged up the ceiling and went down again, apparently wanting to walk with two legs. _

_"You sure are happy," said Yellow, still smiling, kneeling down. The purple creature let out a small roar happily, but Yellow didn't flinch by misunderstanding like other children, but as it did, Yellow heard differently. _

_"I'm happy to be out of my pokeball!" it squealed, and Yellow smiled- then frowned. _

_"What's a pokibow?" she asked as the purple creature kneeled down as well- Yellow was about two-thirds of his height. The creature looked at her dubiously. _

_"You're Kevin's cousin, aren't you?" he asked, as Yellow's hands stroked his head once more. Yellow was about to answer that when the door opened and it revealed-_

_"Auntie Gracie!" Yellow cried, then she stood up. She's forgotten that the broken vase was still there. Her usual happy face was now replaced by a shocked one, and the comb that was still supporting against the weight of her wet, black hair was sliding and it fell down the floor, making a louder sound than what Yellow could hear out of her inaudible whispers. _

_And behind her was the least person Yellow expected. His hair was the first Yellow noticed, followed by his shoes; the roller skating shoes Uncle Wilton bought him last Christmas. He looked as if he was hiding behind Auntie Gracie when in actual fact, Auntie Gracie was holding him by the collar of his shirt, and he was doing nothing but frantic movements to escape: he was a foot off the ground. _

_"Gold?" she squeaked, not daring to believe it. Was _this _his idea? If it was, then Gold's ideas were running out of their usual calming tactics. Gold looked at her with apologizing eyes. _

_"I'm sorry! I was just about to get the glue gun when _she_ caught me!" he said, pouting. Yellow didn't know what to do now- it all seemed to be the end of the world for her. Uncle Wilton was going to be in trouble- and more so, _her_. _

_"What. . . what did you do-?" whispered Auntie Gracie: she had never seen this side of her before. She wasn't the type to worry like this at all: most of the time, she was making jokes with her loud voice, then pranking grandma and grandpa whenever she had the chance. Yellow searched for an answer while she looked fixedly down at the floor, hoping that that was a rhetorical question. But then she realized that Auntie Gracie's shadow was moving its way behind her._

_Looking up and turning round, she spotted Auntie Gracie just in time to recall the purple creature back in the ball._

_"What are you doing to him?" Yellow asked, running forward, but she felt something grip tightly on her hand, but she didn't care whether it was her math teacher or Gold: the purple creature was being _blamed _for what _she'd_ done, judging by Auntie Gracie's scolding. _

_"What are you doing, Auntie Gracie? Leave him-!" _

_". . . This vase was given to us by our grandmother," Auntie Gracie said hoarsely, her voice cracking when she said that last word, and Yellow thought she saw her lip quiver menacingly, and that was a sign that she didn't hear a word Yellow said, and she won't, by the looks of it. _

_"No, Auntie Gracie, it-"_

_Gold's grip tightened and Yellow didn't say anything longer. She glanced behind her and saw that Gold threw her a look that Yellow could almost read as, _'Don't'_._

_She looked down the floor, ashamed. She has to keep this secret with Gold into the grave, she supposed. . . Just like any other mischief she's associated with Gold involuntarily. . . _

Yellow could hear voices approaching her ears. . . All terrible memories of her past mistakes. . . All of which she hadn't confessed yet. . . All her mistakes that she was afraid to speak up- and now time has passed and she still can't muster all the courage she can to. . .

Ataro, Gold's Aipom had been blamed for her accident. . . And then he was given to Gold so that he won't cause any trouble at Aunt Gracie's house. . . But he never had. And from then on, Aunt Gracie's sadness became something more saddening: she never was the same again. The vase she broke was an antique, and from what they'd said, the only thing her great grandmother had given the whole family.

And the whole area swirled around into another scene, a scene when Yellow was older. . . It was her classroom. And they all seemed to be having a test.

_54. Explain the theory of Isaac Newton's Acceleration in no less than 7 sentences. _

_Yellow breathed heavily and adjusted her position in sitting as the teacher passed by, clearing her throat as quietly as she could. When Professor Marcus passed her loudly, (his shoes were making a sort of noisy tapping sound) she sighed in relief and went back to answering her test. _

_No less than 7 sentences. . . _

_How was she going to do that? She drew a big breath and reread the question over and over again: she's answered all the other questions- she's skipped the 54th number, thinking she could answer that later- yet this number seemed to have bugged her the most. She just can't remember the answer, and it's asked her to answer that in _7 sentences_? If that wasn't a crime, then it must be. _

_"Two minutes, everyone." Professor Marcus's voice echoed the classroom, followed by a mixture of groaning voices around Yellow. Panic seemed to have overwhelmed inside her knowing there wasn't much time left. _

_What was she going to do now? She just can't cheat, she mustn't. Yellow vowed to herself that she won't ever cheat- but this was the last exam of her sixth grade and she just can't _not_ pass: she must get to high school, even if it means-_

_No, definitely no. She won't stoop that low down to Gold's level. If anyone had the right to tell her if they were similar, then it would be no one. _

_Two minutes left. . . Yellow's mind chimed like a clock as her imagination swirled before her, and the students reluctantly passed the papers. . . It was horrible to know whether she could pass or not, because if she did cheat, then she won't pass most likely. _

_She glanced at her neighbooring seatmates: they, too, seemed busy with the exam. . . But they weren't as smart as she was, so she's bound to get a higher score than they will- but still, she was only better than them at some subjects. . . And she sucked when it comes to memorizing Isaac Newton's theories. _

_She could feel the ballpoint pen she was gripping drench in sweat from nervousness. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and continued to analyze the question, hoping she could remember just a tiny bit, then she could pass. . ._

_But nothing she ever seemed to try to recall ever worked. And she can't recall a thing about Acceleration. She tried to delve inside her mind a little further when she heard a paper crumple just near her. _

_She glanced around and saw what seems to be just that. Yellow's eyes widened as she read the words, although barely legible, _'. . . weight of the object affects how fast the acceleration of the object is.'

_She glanced around her- it was none other than her best friend Crystal who owned that: it was her hand-writing. But she seemed to be a few seats away. . . How could this paper have fallen onto the floor just near her? _

_Then it suddenly hit her. The jocks were her seatmates: she glanced at the both of them and they seemed to be playing with another crumpled up paper, not minding the exam at all. Of course, the jocks have excellent memory, but she doesn't, so that easily makes them one of the smartest guys in class. _

_They must have thrown around Chris's paper just to defuse the tension. . . She didn't care the logic of it, she already got an answer, and she needed it so badly-_

_She quickly wrote a paragraph stating how Newton's thoery worked as the bell rang just in time as she'd passed it to Professor Marcus. _

* * *

><p><em>"I think I got a <em>C_, at least," said Sapphire, looking at the sky with her hand above her forehead as they walked down to sit at the table for lunch. Blue rolled her eyes. _

_"Come on, Sapphire," she said, taking a bite out of her ice cream sandwich as Yellow licked her lollipop-like ice cream slowly, not really listening. "You've got Science in the bucket, now it's just Pokemology we're going to worry about."_

_"For your information, Blue, it's called '_Studies of Pokemon'_, and not Pokemology," said Chris in her usual voice. Then she tugged out a piece of paper that was inserted inside Blue's book and read it. _

_"Hey!" she exclaimed after taking a huge gulp, leaning on the table to get it. _

_"Oh, and Jonathan isn't spelled as '_Johnathan'_," said Chris, handing back the paper to her mockingly. Blue blushed and snatched back the paper as Sapphire roared with laughter._

_"I know that!" she said, stowing it away in her handbag. Then she smiled slyly at all of them. "You guys think you've passed? I have, that's for sure."_

_"Don't tell us you've cheated again," Chris said. Yellow felt something in her stomach leap and she continued eating, though now more hastily, as if that was going to cover her up. Unfortunately, Blue noticed this and smirked. _

_"What happened to our ickle Yellowkins?" she asked in a sly voice. Yellow could've sworn she'd choked her ice cream and turned away so that no one saw her blush. She felt everybody's eyes on her and she looked at them all with an expression of both worry and regret, nodding grudgingly. Blue squealed as Chris's mouth dropped and she saw Sapphire choke her lunch. _

_"You did! I knew it!" said Blue, literally shaking with excitement. Yellow had never felt so ashamed in her entire life. "I knew it the moment you recited in class with that wicked British accent- just knew it! Oh, Yellow!"_

_Sapphire looked quite as angry as Chris and she said, thumping herself on the back, "Yellow-san! You should know better!" _

_"I-I did! It's just- I can't- I was sure I'd fail- the paper-" she stammered uselessly, but Chris said, not listening to her, "What made you _think_ that, Yellow?"_

_Sapphire sighed and took a bite out of her lunch again- which was a sandwich, an ordinary one- "Well, what's done is done. And Yellow-san's done it. You feel bad, don't you?"_

_"Bad? BAD? I feel worse!" said Yellow, standing up from her chair and knocking aside Blue's notebooks accidentally. Chris made a "shhing" gesture and pointed at a group of teachers warningly. She sat down again and adjusted her position, frowning guiltily. Blue scooted beside her and put an arm around her neck. _

_"That's just the beginning, Yellow," said Blue comfortingly- but Yellow felt worse. It was Chris who soothed her when she spoke. _

_"Oh, Blue! You'll just make her feel worse!" she exclaimed, then she turned to Sapphire, "Right? No, wait, Yellow- listen. How on earth did you cheat?"_

_Yellow immediately widened her eyes involuntarily and hit her head on the table repeatedly. Chris and Sapphire looked at each other for a moment, then Sapphire said, "Erm, if it makes you feel better, Yellow-san, then I'll punch Ruby just to make ya happy."_

_Yellow's mind instantly constructed a scene where Ruby had been submitted to a hospital and Sapphire had to be questioned at the court for a hearing. _

_"NO! You can't! I'm better now, see?"_

_"I told you it was just the beginning," said Blue, smirking as she sipped her juice idly. Chris glared at her and knocked aside her remaining notebooks to the ground and walked away._

_Yellow licked her ice cream and glanced at the clock and a realization occurred to Yellow. "Aren't you late for school?" _

Yellow's mind exploded with more indecent memories and she was shaking uncomfortably and she could feel her breathing loudly.

She'd been keeping secrets for years. . . She's never told the truth. . . Not to Aunt Gracie, not to Professor Marcus. . . Half of her entire life seemed to be revolving around ambiguous truths and lies.

She can't do it anymore. She missed her life, she missed her family- she wanted to get out of this crazy island. . . She can't do this alone.

She doesn't want any more lies and she can't cope with it. She's had enough- no more secrets, no more lies. . .

All these years, she's been keeping secrets. . . All lies, and she's never spoken of it again. An uneasy thought ran through her mind. . .

What will happen if Red will know? He's her rommate, after all. . . And if he'd known, then. . . What will become of her? Will he keep that secret?

"Yellow? Can- can you hear me?"

Yellow opened her eyes: they were full of tears. She felt a thumb softly press itself against her cheek and wipe her tears. She rubbed her eyes and her vision came back: everything was going back to its place- everything was just the same as it had been last night, but the only difference was it was morning. When her vision settled- Uncle Wilton reminded her that she needed glasses once- to its normal sight, Yellow realized that Red was on her bed now, looking down at her, concerned and she was surprised she didn't flinch.

"You were crying. What happened?" he asked standing up and adjusting his necktie: he was wearing his school uniform. He asked what had happened- he just said it.

The sun's rays made Red's messy black hair look even messier by adding a bit of high lights, but what struck Yellow most were his eyes: they fit his corneas perfectly. But more on what Red asked, Yellow didn't immediately respond. She just lied on bed, thinking now- remembering she can't sit up because her straw hat might slip.

She stared at the floor, hoping that her answer won't come along with her throaty voice- but she was still thinking of an answer. What will she tell him, she had a bad dream? She'd hit her head again? She can't sleep? Her eyes were sprayed with dust? Though she was sure she wasn't going to ask the second and last suggestions. Her quivering lips moved and her voice- she was almost surprised that it wasn't as throaty as the usual mornings- spoke, "I. . . nightmare."

At least it was short. . .

"N-nightmare?" Red said, almost taken back as he pulled down his blue vest and staring at her almost in disbelief. "What sorta nightmare?"

Yellow turned to look at him: he was gazing down at her face worriedly. She instantly knew what was on his mind and said reassuringly, sitting up but adjusting her hat behind her furtively.

"Nothimbadinparticlar!" Yellow spluttered as he neared to check her temperature, judging by his hand gesture. Red looked slightly taken back and stood to his full height. Yellow raised her eyebrows dully and looked down at his feet: he didn't wear any shoes yet but he was walking around in his _socks_.

"What d'you mean? I've got to check whether-"

"Aren't you late for school?" said Yellow, pointing at the wall clock above the television almost as "as-a-matter-of-fact"ly as Chris does.

Red glanced quickly at the clock, his eyes widening, and jumped around to look for his shoes- a few seconds later he came back from the bathroom and was biting the aglet of his black shoes while putting it on, his other foot busy jumping him around, its shoe unproperly put on.

"Shoot, I've got to get a permission slip-" he kept muttering hastily to himself, apparently in a state of panic and completely forgetting his concern for Yellow- which was obviously a good thing. He snatched a key from the table as he stumbled to the floor facedown.

Yellow crawled on her bed and looked down at him, smiling. He sure was in a pathetic state.

"Oh shut up, Yellow," he muttered darkly as he rubbed his nose through gritted teeth, his eyes focused on the door that lead outside the dorm- he heard someone knock. Yellow sat up the bed to take a better look with her feet folded and back slouched, her head tilted a little to see if the lock was- well- locked. She flinched when- instead of the soft knock earlier- the person outside banged the door violently, apparently impatient to find that Red wasn't answering and neither was she.

"RED! GET YOUR SORRY BUTT OUTTA THERE OR WE'LL _BOTH_ BE LATE!" the knocker- or door demolisher- roared loudly. Yellow grinned when she realized whose voice that was. His voice was already familiar to her that she instantly remembered: though if he weren't angry Yellow wouldn't have continued covering her ears.

Red shrugged almost despite of Green as if he predicted this would happen. He got up again and stuffed the key in his pocket, patting it before he strode over hastily at the sliding door when Green shouted something to Red that Yellow can't understand because her ears were too sore to hear anything.

"Coming, Green!" he said, unlocking the sliding door and it- well- slid open: Green sighed heavily and glared daggers at Red.

"What have you been doing here?" That seemed to be a rhetorical question so Red didn't answer- instead, he smiled sheepishly and shrugged. Green looked murderous and was about to shout moer words when he noticed Yellow at the bed, raising her bed sheets up to her chest and smiling nervously.

"Morning, Green," she said, almost embarrassed. She was, after all, the one who kept Red from going to school early. All anger seemed to have drained from Green's face as he stared at her- Yellow's fingers were twitching every second that had elapsed of Green staring at her. He seemed to be studying her- Yellow bit her lip and tried to change the subject by pointing at the clock. "Aren't you late for school?"

Green, finally breaking from his trance- much to Yellow's relief- grabbed Red's hand and dragged him outside the dorm, and Red- who was standing on top of a scattered pile of clothes- and who hadn't much of a choice, really- accidentally kicked the pile, almost slipping, and its range reached a few yards away.

Yellow jumped out of bed- her hair was a mess but her hat covered it, so she didn't need to worry about a thing while she was outside- and tried to close the door when she heard Red call out to her, his hand waving at her franticaly, apparently trying to get her attention because the janitor just jumped in surprise when he hear him, "LATER- LUNCH- TOUR- ROUND- ISLAND!"

Later, lunch, tour, round, island. . . ? What in the-? Then all the words fit together, if you just cancel all the prepositions and pronouns. . . Later at lunch I'll tour you round the island. . . Yep, it matched. Yet she had never felt anything so gleeful in her entire life. . .

If only he knew what she felt- if he only knew she was a girl- then he just might have asked her out. . . Yellow sometimes wondered whether this was what Blue felt whenever she gets a date- or whenever she _doesn't_ get a date by the end of at least two days out of boredom of the same boring dates. Will she, herself, get tired of getting dates? Either way, she was glad.

She watched as Red waved back to her and run beside Green to their class: but her mind was filled with another thought as she slowly, absentmindedly, lowered her hand.

She wondered how Gold and Uncle Wilton were doing right now. . . She sighed heavily and closed the sliding door without another word. It's already've been a week- or was it seven weeks?- since she's been unconscious. . . Or was it? Last night, she's slept and today must be the eighth day, which means that she's been stuck on this island for- not twenty- not thirty- _not even forty_- but for _fifty-six days_? And more than half of the days she's spent here she's slept unconsciously. . .

But Professor Oak told Yellow about how the time works here. . . He said something about speeding up and slowing down? When will time here slow down? He also mentioned. . . the season. . .

It was August 15 when she'd been seperated from Barty at the Sky Pillar. . . Then there was this Autumn storm, that must have caused Mirage Island to return to the fabric of space and time of Hoenn. A week had elapsed since she's lain unconscious on Ample Plains. . . Bill must have mistaken her for a boy then he most likely told Professor Oak about that a few days later or so. . . Then Professor Oak ordered Red and Green to look after her while she's still unconscious.

That was when she woke up, and they'd explained some of the hard bits to her. She recalled what Red said. . . Something about '_a month. . ._' made Yellow's brain numb: if that was just an estimation of Red's, then she'd stay here for at least _3-and-a-half_ months and if it wasn't, then was she to stay here for at most _7_.

Were the order of speeding up and slowing down the time here halfed? Halfed. . . One season takes four months- if the time here in Mirage Island of slowing down and speeding up _had_ been halfed, then she could return to Hoenn. . .

In no more than 3-and-a-half months. . .

If she'd just brought her calculator then all of this mind-cracking problem solving would've been much easier- and her brain would feel younger: it was having a huge headache she thinks she can't stop.

Yellow sat down Red's bed- which also had a pile of clothes on it- and bit her lower lip again. She kept thinking about how Gold and Uncle Wilton were and she didn't know that she was the one she must be worried about: it's a mystery.

She sighed and sat up, lifting herself from her position reluctantly and strode over to the bathroom. Yellow turned the knob around and entered the bathroom: Red's pajamas last night was scattered on the floor. She thought whether this was a sort of weird habit of men and giggled.

She was about to go the cabinet, anyway, and had no business whatsoever about what the bathroom had inside.

Once she opened the doors of the cabinet, she noticed Gold's goggles lying there. She recalled that she _did_ burrow this from Gold and didn't return it. The goggles' lenses had reflected her eyes and she was reminded of her family.

She exited the bathroom with a grimace of reminiscence as she lied down her bed, eagle-bodied, examining the goggles with her hands feeling as though they were running through it.

Her parents have died when a certain association raided their house. She's never had parents until Uncle Wilton arrived at the police station. That's when her life changed. He taught her how everything works, and what the creatures are: pokemon. Her parents died before she could even go to school and learn. She's still never learned the word until Uncle Wilton taught her. He gave her her first pokemon and she kept Dody after she learned how to take care of Ratty. Then came Kitty, and Gravvy, then Omny, and finally Chuchu.

Gold was her second-cousin from Uncle Wilton's side. That's why he had black hair- he cut his fringe by himself; though he was almost a distant relative, he managed to inherit almost precisely Yellow's eyes. He visited Uncle Wilton's house on her first summer there: they instantly became friends. Something happened to Gold's parents, though. It seemed as if the certain association was targeting her family.

Later on, she learned that that organization was Team Rocket. They seem to have targeted her family because they've been tracking someone in their family that can communicate to pokemon- understand them. And she was more than lucky that she's survived- because she was the second to the last person who'd inherited the powers of the Viridian Forest: the last one this five years was born when Yellow was just ten- this extraordinary power only skips ten years. The first baby born at the tenth year will be the one to inherit the powers.

Vaguely, her mind wandered off to somewhere far from her ancestry: what will she do here for the next few days- scratch that- _weeks_? But if she was supposed to stay her until the season changes, then how much has time elapsed in Hoenn ever since she's been here? Lesse. . . she's been here for 56 days- divide that into two and we have 28- divide that by 7 and we have 4. . .

She's been here for a month. . . in the time of Hoenn- but 56 days in Mirage Island- no, that was wrong, too. . . She's been here for a month in the time of Mirage Island calculated- when Red said that when the time of Mirage Island and that of Hoenn collide into one, she'll have the chance to return back to Hoenn with Gold and Uncle Wilton, that'll be in a month's time in Mirage Island- meaning it could be divided into two because of the slowing and speeding up of the time here: 3-and-a-half months- she's only've been here for a month in whichever's time and will stay here for 2-and-a-half more months' time. . .

As she played with the goggles another thouhgt crept inside her mind- why not waste the time by fishing? It is an island, after all, and she could even bring her sketch pad.

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME:**_** Well- I somehow knew this chapter was gonna end like this. =P How unpredictable I can be- even I don't know =P Yeah, thanks for the review, Pika127! So far, you're the only one who reviewed last chapter. **_

**GOLD**_**: You COULD say you deserved that.**_

**ME: **_**Er, deserve what?**_

**GOLD: **_**Only ONE review.**_

**ME: **_**What do you mean? I DO deserve that. Um, I don't follow you. It's either a good thing or a bad thing. Let's just be happy I even GOT a review.**_

**YELLOW: **_**But it's only've been a day.**_

**ME: **_**Here's to another lame ending, everyone! This story sucked. Anyway, it didn't suck as last time did, so let's be happy. Supposedly, this chapter is to show Yellow's memories about her secrets and she just can't take it anymore. BUT let's get back to business- have you found that mistake? **_

**YELLOW: Though one thing's for sure, no one'll read this chapter over and over again.**

**ME: _Why would you say that?_**

**YELLOW: _Whether you can actually think of something profound in Mathematics or that is the only thing you're good at in academics- nobody's going to understand how the time of Mirage Island works, Nicole-chan, because of how you explained it here._**

**GOLD: _That's why I won't read it._**

**ME: _What? Hey that reminds me- I made that calculation in no less than a day!_**

**GOLD: _Just a DAY? And how do your readers plan to understand THAT?_**

**ME: _They just have to._**


	10. Two Accidents At Once

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Well- I don't know what's worst- I made someone feel bad of themselves or I just hadn't slept last night and I feel like I could burst-**_

**YELLOW: **_**You hadn't SLEPT last night?**_

**ME:**_** Skip that question. There was a blackout rotation-**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**Pika127: What were you sorry about? =/ Sorry, I can't figure it out-**_

**GOLD:**_** Would you STOP that?**_

**ME: **_**Stop what? I haven't even YET ONCE put in the dot-**_

**GOLD:**_** Stop making RHYMES!**_

**ME:**_** I didn't even notice. Well- I love being an author =) I just hate being clueless =/ Oh, and I'm in a hurry to actually FINISH this story because I have a lot of ideas exploding in my mind- nothing too bad- and I'm scared if I won't publish it in the future, then it might just be stolen =P**_

**THE NINTH CHAPTER: TWO ACCIDENTS AT ONCE**

Yellow sat up and placed the goggles on the bedside table and thought about fishing for a while. If Red was going to show up here without her, then what was she going to tell him? She thought about leaving a note- but she still didn't know where she was going to fish.

She'd heard the waves crash together at the seaside near here, but she just didn't get it. Wasn't Mirage Island banished? Or was a certain part of the ocean at Hoenn banished without a trace with it? Yellow sometimes thought that when she woke up, the whole Mirage Island thing had been a lie and a prank- which she thought was by Gold- but now. . .

. . . She wished it really was- a joke. Now that she came to think of it- this whole world seemed to be a joke. All of it. Yellow came to reality when she realized that she was staring at the goggles again; the glass reflecting her eyes- and she always had been sobered by the fact that they always remind her of Gold. Then a sudden thought came unbidden to her in her mind that she's just noticed after her vision had returned its sight from staring too much: Uncle Wilton and her don't have anything in common in physical appearance at all.

Sure, they love to fish- but was that it?

Despite the thoughts running inside her mind that made her so uneasy that she wanted to launch a debate with herself to know to let the discomfort leave her body- she decided to let it go by thinking of another thought- a rather discomforting afterthought about her hunger; she could feel the pain inside her stomach squirm like mad. Was there a house in here for stranded strangers who'd been mistaken to be a girl? (But when Yellow thought about it, they were right.) Then she remembered Red saying that this was the first in history. . . But they really never saw this coming? They had a great number of scientists here, after all.

Her stomach growled louder and Yellow groaned, frustrated that she can't keep it calm for at _least_ a second or two. . . It's been a _month_ since she hadn't eaten. . . Good Lord, she wondered how she survived. But she thought she can't for longer; if she can't get killed from curiosity then she will get killed by hunger. . . And that just might be in a few seconds from now. . .

Yellow jumped up from the bed and grabbed her fishing rod from under her bed, stumbling to get up as she extended the wooden stick and the line- it was so long that it nearly hit the ceiling when Yellow stood up.

"I've _got_ to find food here," she muttered to herself in a tone of panic. She hasn't any money brought here- if she had, they might've dropped on the ground at Ample Plains or something- and she was really starving- how she survived without food for a whole month- she didn't know, though she was itching to find out.

She strode over to the corner of the room and strapped her belt bag around her waist- it was a bit big for her, but she could handle it; though it _was_ dangling. She needed Dody to help her out a little- the lake here or the ocean just might be a little further than she would expect.

Yellow opened the door of the bathroom and washed her face with water before taking her straw hat off, wiping her face with her sleeve automatically: it was refreshing- so refreshing that it just had kept her hunger at bay along with her thirst.

She wheeled around and opened the cabinet with both of her hands and filched her- the thing she wears over her turtle-neck that reaches her knees that's yellow and she doesn't even know what it's called? That- and put it on and sprinted outside, closing the bathroom door- forgetting that the cabinet was still open- and darted to the corner of the room to fetch her boots.

Yellow put them on hastily, sitting at the side of her bed with her back lying on it. As soon as she had them on, she bounce off the bed and, not forgetting about her fishing rod, still running, though lowering her speed, grabbed her fishing rod and bolted to the sliding door, almost forgetting it did slide, and slid it open, nearly sliding herself, and slid it close as Red did last night- or seven nights ago- whatever- and was grateful that there was no one outside and that there were walls around and slid open the sliding door again.

She bolted to the bathroom hurriedly and closed the cabinet and came back out adjusting her straw hat on, and ran outside again, sliding the door open and close more hastily than ever. She heard a clock chime loudly and she fell on her knees, covering her ears as it did-

_BONG!_

Yellow kept her head down and gritted her teeth: was this for the whole island to hear? Because if it was, then that would explain why it's so loud-

_**BONG! **_

She could feel her eardrums being exploded just by the loud sound- and, if possible, it was even louder than the first one.

_**BONG! **_

Yellow caught her breath- she could feel herself trembling. . .

_**BONG!**_

Her insides seemed to be exploding more violently than her eardrums were.

_**BONG!**_

The louder the clock chimes, the more Yellow could feel her hearing lose its purpose inside her ears.

_**BONG!**_

How long was this going to continue- or better, end? To Yellow, it seemed like an eternity in there, crouched down, feeling like a huge idiot- though that wasn't the only feeling she could feel. Other than idiocy, she could feel herself floating away. . .

_**BONG!**_

Yellow breathed in- she couldn't even hear herself think- for all she knew, this was going to be painful unless this was going to stop in the next-

_**BONG!**_

Then it became silent. . . Who knew?

Yellow's ears were ringing- she's never heard a louder and noisier silence in her whole life. She managed to stand up, nervously, and look around her area- she couldn't hear anything for a while, then her hearing came back after the ringing in her ears silenced themselves.

It was weird how she couldn't hear just a second ago and now she _still_ couldn't hear anything because it was so silent and everything was so still and steady- or was she really not hearing anything? Yellow tried checking her hearing by making soft clopping noises- she could still hear, thank God.

She scratched her cheek, looking at her surroundings unconsciously. How was she going to open the Gateway- or the Access- or whichever? She surely mustn't eat at the Refectory, looking like this- and if Red's gone to the Gateway- or the Access- or whichever gate opens the school- then that must mean that there're classes going on. . .

But the Access must be always open. . . And there must be an eatery outside at the town: but she can't eat there. . . she hasn't got any money. But if she'd explain to them that she was- but, counting the number of "bong"s of the clock that chimed earlier- which, in fact, was eight times- it was still too early for the shops to open.

Yellow sighed and tossed her pokeball in the air, grudgingly, looking high in the sky, gazing at the ball as it reached eight feet off the ground, shielding the sun. It opened as it did before, and a red light came out from within it, taking its shape into the form of a pokemon with a circular body shaping into one with two legs and three heads popping out from it. When the pokemon engulfed in the red light got big enough, it reached the ground as its feet's extended and the red light seemed to have made a breaking sound- it continued until its whole body was free of the red light and the pokemon let out cries- it had three heads, go figure.

"Awesome, Dody," said Yellow, climbing up his saddle carefully- was it just Dody or did she grow a little taller? Either way, she was proud if either of them had grown or shrunk. If it was her, then it must be from the whole month's sleep- if it was Dody, well, she could get her hopes up sometime. She held on to her straw hat while her other hand gripped on her fishing rod and Dody's saddle strap. The only problem was that she didn't know where she could fish. "Erm, Dody!"

She gave Dody a nudge as he gave a little grunt and it let out another roar- or roars. Yellow gulped and realized that the tip of her fishing rod was poking one of Dody's heads in the eye. She adjusted her hat on again and gulped- she forgot how to do this. Yellow withdrew her rod and it returned to its normal short height.

"Dody," she said impatiently, literally shaking, as Dody yawned and stretched his legs quite lazily. "Dody- if you're through with that, can we go now?"

At first, she thought Dody would jump and bite her, but he was actually eyeing his surroundings curiously, his heads tilting themselves almost automatically, staring at the roofs of the nearby dorms.

"Dodes, let's go already!" said Yellow, losing her patience almost in spite of her pathetic situation- but Dody still wasn't listening. Nearly furious, Yellow gave him a slight kick in the ribs- she _thinks _it was the ribs- almost instinctively and Dody began running at his fastest speed.

"Duh-du-du-duh-duh- DODY!" she stuttered, trying to keep her balance while hanging on to Dody, gripping on her fishing rod, and trying her best to keep her head down to keep her hat on before something hits her on the head or something else.

She felt herself hit a tree branch but kept her balance the same time she kept her hat on, a few leaves from the branches still stuck between the straws of it.

"Do-do-do- Dody! Sluh-sl- SLOW DOWN-" she said, when she felt something bump and she was launched forward by the force and was fortunate that Dody had three heads because she just thought she hit one- if Dody did have only one head, he can't stay in focus. Her straw hat was over her eyes and she can't see where they've stopped. Yellow threw her hat backwards for a balance on her head to both keep it on and not keep it in front of her eyes.

"D-Dody- um, thanks. . ." she muttered, blushing. She let go of her hat- its brim bounced backward- and stroked his fur soothingly: she didn't need to remind him that she kicked him just to go- besides, it was an accident. She yanked away the hair that was in front of her face, looking up- she craned her neck to look at the familiar stone wall.

She heard Dody say something and Yellow smiled, embarrassed, patting him on his center head almost guiltily, "Right- I can't seem to figure out what password- What? Red and Green used a key! I just can't snatch it from the room. I don't even know where to find it!"

Yellow spotted Dody snort in defiance and she rolled her eyes in utmost frustration that he didn't understand, pouting, "I didn't even see him put it somewhere- I-I fell straight asleep. . ." she trailed off, not realizing what she was saying- and what she was doing.

She took furtive glances around her- there was nobody there. She sighed in relief and said quietly to Dody, her lips barely moving from suspicion, "Just take me somewhere with water- where there are fish- not fish _pokemon_, just fish," she added quickly. For a split of a second, she felt Dody's back twitch involuntarily. She didn't blame him: she didn't know where that'll be, so how could _he_? She scratched her neck almost automatically when she added, still quietly, "I don't have any money- so getting food here will just take me to improvising like we did on the island we were stranded on: fish."

Now all Yellow needed to worry about is how to open the Access (AKA the gate in front of her). Red did it by using that key of his- now what does Yellow have? She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, thinking deeply. She can't _jump_ out, that's for sure. She glanced behind her shoulder reproachfully- she recalled Red saying something about a lasagna in the fridge. . . Then again- Red must've eaten it already. But it was worth checking-

Yellow shook her head. Nope, she made it this far, and she didn't know how she could get back without doing anything in the room. But even boredom was worth it if she had a full stomach. There was television there- but she doubted whether they had signal. . . Because if they had, then they would have cellular phones here as well with a strong signal- Who was she kidding, of _course_ there wasn't a signal here, this island was _banished_.

"Come on, Dodes," she said softly, pulling the saddle to her right followed by Dody's three heads. She just thought of something- this school was huge, so there must be a small pond here or something. If they were studying about Science, then surely there was a pond, because of the transformations of a Poliwag to a Poliwrath would spicen the lesson up. Plus, they'd have to learn there were animals in this world, too (In the pokemon world, there are mostly pokemon and only quite a few animals: animals are creatures- like pokemon- that have no powers of anything and look really weird in comparison). "If we can't exit the school, then we'd just have to find a pond here- somewhere," she added quietly, more to herself than to Dody.

Dody obeyed her orders and left a pile of dust behind them as he darted forward. Yellow could feel her stomach growling and was afraid that breakfast- 31 breakfasts, 30 lunches, and 30 dinners to make up for it- will have to wait until they nab a fish in the pond. Dody's footsteps were louder than Yellow thought they'd be, and Yellow had to duck to keep herself from being thrown back because the branches of the trees there were very low- and she can't not stay hidden under the shade of the tree because if something unexpected happens- something that involves her _hat_- she's doomed.

So far, they'd passed a hundred yards from the Access- and a few hundred more from the dorm- without being seen and had been well-hidden: Yellow instructed Dody to keep its three heads down and hide behind the trees while running around to find a pond- at least _one_ should be here- it _had_ to be here.

Dody leapt over a five-foot boulder- Yellow wondered bewilderedly how _that_ got there- and she could've sworn there were figures that had been hiding ever since he- Dody- did- jump over the boulder. Yellow shook her head dismissively- she must be imagining things. She thought she caught something in the corner of her eye and glanced at her right: there was the pond- they were behind the school: and most importantly, there were no windows- she gave Dody a slight kick in the ribs and he skidded to a halt.

Yellow felt herself being thrown _forward_ and gave a wince, feeling her left cheek sore again as her face hit against Dody's head. She wiped the- was that _drool_, or worse, _blood_?- off her chin and murmured quickly at Dody, "Sorry."

How was she supposed to fish _there_? What with huge rocks and stones around? _Really_ huge rocks and stones- they were, by far, bigger than the one Dody had just leapt over. . .

She gulped as she craned her neck- she could see the water between the boulders surrounding it, but it seemed almost impossible to insert yourself between them. . . And what was all of this doing here? She looked at Dody for help but he just turned his three heads at her with the same look she's giving him. Yellow squinted her eyes hopelessly at him, almost as if she was giving him a look that said, "_Really. . . ?_"

She shook her head pityingly- almost in spite of herself- and got off Dody's saddle clumsily, her feet tangled up in the straps, trying her hardest to loosen them, and when she did, she fell on the ground behind the bushes.

"Oh, shoot- thanks, anyway, Dody," she said, trying to get up the bush. One of Dody's heads extended themselves and pulled Yellow up by biting her sleeve helpfully. She smiled at him nervously and patted him on the head- two heads- and his third one snuggled its cheek against her painful one while Yellow paid attention to the huge boulder wall.

She stared at the area they were in: who puts a pond in the middle of the road somewhere to class? Someone insane would, Yellow thought bitterly- they would've at least let the trees here grow taller so that she could climb. . . Or maybe smaller rocks would do. The longer the time stretched while Yellow thought of a solution, the crazier her idea gets.

She glanced reproachfully at Dody, who looked at her expectantly. She gave him a hopeless nod while frowning slightly. Her stomach was growling like crazy and she hasn't drunk anything as well- it was like surviving something out of nothing. Yellow held her breath and tightened her stomach- now that. . . was a metaphor.

"I'm gonna do it, Dody," she said, adjusting her hat without turning around to face him- she had spoken as if that was her last sentence. She half-glanced at him half-expecting that was half-hopefully. Yellow had gone completely mad- she was about to climb up the boulder wall and fish there no matter how tall that thing was- this was about her eating and nothing's going to stand in her way. _Nothing_. Hell, she even didn't even share her pancakes to Gold when she came back from PE practice. If that wasn't hell, then she couldn't wait for another swearword to emphasize how this felt now.

"Wish me luck- I'm gonna climb this thing," _And hopefully still be alive after that,_ she felt like adding, and she was lucky that pokemon can't read _her _thoughts. She gulped and tried to look brave. She added almost reprovingly, "And if I fall or anything, catch me, please."

Behind her, she thought she saw in the corner of her eye Dody rolling his six eyes and shaking his heads pityingly. Yellow sighed and stepped over the bush and readied herself. Gulping, she adjust both her hat and her belt bag while standing in front of one boulder, examining it. In closer inspection- to Yellow, at least- it wasn't a boulder at all. . .

Yellow raised her hand and made it feel around the boulder in front of her and it was surprisingly smooth- which was weird. Boulders aren't supposed to be smooth: not when they were surrounding a small pond. It depended on where they were placed, and this doesn't seem to be what Yellow thought it was. . . She craned her neck and looked up: this boulder was huge. She can't possibly climb it without even knowing _what_ it is.

She pressed her ear on the smoothest part she can find of it and tapped it with her finger- there was surprisingly a sound. A _loud_ sound. She withdrew herself from it and scratched her chin. There has to be a way to get behind this rock- thing. Or over it, more like. She can't just squeeze through the gap between the rock- thing, can she? For one thing, she thinks she just won't fit. For another- Yellow knew this for a reason- she just might fall into the pond straightaway. And the last thing, if she could enter there, how on earth will she be able to get out of- of _that_?

Yellow decided her best option was to climb over it. Which. . . was. . . bad. She hadn't an idea how to climb the stupid thing. If she had, then she'd get this over and done with earlier- _much_ earlier. She'll just have to use a pokemon that's great in climbing rocks.

That's made out of the _same_ thing.

Hurriedly, excitedly, hastily,_ hungrily_- where did _that_ come from?- she nipped a pokeball from her belt bag and tossed it in the air a not a feet high above her shoulder.

The pokeball opened in an almost climatic way despite the background and setting of the situation and it formed into something huge. Two hands sprouted from the red beam of light and formed a shape of something large- and it looked as if it had just erupted- and rough-skinned: as its final features imploded from the red light, Yellow grinned and stepped out of the way as it was pulled down by gravity and landed on the ground shakily, growling, its black eyes staring at its new environment that it just now had seen.

"Hiya, Gravvy!" said Yellow happily, walking over to his side and hugging him affectionately. Gravvy let out a threatening roar- which Yellow was so used to that she didn't even wince at this- and limbered its stony muscles as Yellow backed away. Yellow glanced behind her and smiled fleetingly at Dody, giving him a thumbs up. She turned to Gravvy and said, bending over to half her height so that she was just Gravvy's size. "Look, Gravvy, we don't- _I_ don't have much of a time left until I-"

She paused, lost at thought. She looked down at Gravvy with apologetic eyes and wanted to continue.

"- until I- you know- _starvation_," she said, then she went on without pausing again, a bit more confidently, "And I want- er, scratch that- _need_ you to get me up there. Can you do that- for me?"

Gravvy simply looked at her face- her eyes, mostly- and his- huger- black ones seemed to tell Yellow a lot more than what she could get out of his mind. He needed to think about it first. After all, he was a deep thinker. Yellow could wait- if it meant food, she had to.

He nodded while a smile curled his lips- stony lips- and Yellow can't help but smile as well- of _course _she can't help but smile as well. If it meant food, she'll just have to go along.

"All right- just climb this up- don't destroy it!" she added hastily, because Gravvy was showing signs- a lot of it- of wanting to break the boulder- thing a bit excitedly. Yellow tried again, tension rising in her body- particularly, her stomach. She rubbed the creases on her forehead- was this whole experience making her feel as if she was stressing out. . . like Chris- and sighed frustratingly. "Okay, okay- ju-just grab me- no, not _here- _here! That's it!"

Gravvy was now holding her by the hips and paused suddenly when Yellow shifted uncomfortably in her position: this wasn't much of a great experience- nor a comfortable one, to be honest. Gravvy's arms were tougher- and rougher- than she reckoned they were the last time. She much preferred to be flown over there than to climb there- but she had no choice at all.

"G-Gravvy- y-you could c-cl-climb now," said Yellow, her eyes covered with her hands. She heard Gravvy mutter something and was flared up at once, raising her hands away from her eyes. "Hey! That wasn't-"

But before she could even say another word, Gravvy had already started climbing up and they were already ten feet off the ground when Yellow felt her hat fly away but immediately caught it and adjusted it hastily before letting out a gasp of horror on how high up they already were.

"G-Gravvy! This isn't-!" she spluttered, her hunger being replaced by horror and panic- she could do flying, of course, but _rock climbing_ that's _twenty-five feet _off the ground- she can't stand this, and nor can she sustain her hunger from this- they were supposed to be there already- then Yellow's foot slipped from a rock they'd just passed and-

"GRAVVY!" she screamed, feeling herself slip from his grip and-

She saw Gravvy dashing down to the ground, hurrying as she fell- but she wished he could hurry faster- Yellow didn't want to scream out of terror- because that will give her away- and for another thing, she was still too shocked at how this all happened- she still hasn't let go of her fishing rod and tightened her grip on it all the more for precious life.

Yellow winced. She felt herself land on something softer than Gravvy's arms. She opened her eyes and loosened her grip on her rod- she was staring at the sky. She got up and smiled warmly at Dody.

"Erm- sorry," she said awkwardly. Dody nodded his three heads and pecked her sleeves warningly. She felt dizzy, frazed. . . Had it all happened within a split of a second? Yellow, still confused by the fall and had developed a keen suspicion about the boulder wall, whirled around and tried to seek for Gravvy- there he was, over the cloud-

Yellow could feel herself faint, but not from dizziness- her stomach had made a backflip and had started munching down itself all the while. She didn't feel anything but hunger and dizziness. . . She oggled at Gravvy, who had come down the boulder wall and had been looking at her with concerned eyes- she could feel Dody looking at her, too- and swayed back and forth. . .

She was tired, and she needed rest- from hunger, from terror, from panic- everything. . . Maybe if she would just open her eyes right now, this was all a dream- a nightmare, more like- and she could see Gold's eyes staring down at her, smiling like the creep he is, and Uncle Wilton smacking Gold in the head for laughing. . .

She was so wrong.

"I'm sorry, guys," she murmured, sighing hopelessly. She looked up the boulder wall one last time before she said, "I think I'll just have to- wait."

She stood up, still swaying, but other than that, fine, and tried to keep her balance from falling while she put up a bracing look at the both of them while she said, "That's it. I think we'll have to need Kitty-"

Hurriedly, Yellow nipped from her belt bag- she was running out of ideas but this seemed to be her best yet- and held out Kitty's pokeball for all of sthem to see. "I could always just _hover_ up there, couldn't I? It's not like they had everything here under surveillance."

Without hesitating whatsoever- possibly due to the time they'd wasted talking about tactics on getting up there- Yellow tossed the ball into the air.

Red light emerged from the ball when it opened and it grew to something larger than Yellow in comparison- four wings sprouted from the red light- one under one each- and had grown antennas as its paw-sized hands formed before its small and pettite body had- its huge, protuberant eyes had formed last- its compound eyes were unpredictable and unreadable, more so because of his ambiguous nature. The red light that had so been there until it was fully formed shot back and imploded as Kitty formed, stretching his wings, glad of his freedom.

"All right!" said Yellow gleefully, excitement coursing in her veins swiftly as she looked at the lot of them encouragingly. "Let's get to it, everyone!"

She extended her arms out so that Kitty would attach his arms around her hips as she did- she could feel a slight tickle as Kitty did and can't stop smiling. "O-ok-kay, Kitty, let's go!"

She pretended glee because she was so damn hungry. Something inside her stomach squirmed unexpectedly when Kitty attached his hands around her hips, Yellow realized too late. But that didn't matter because she was going to fish for food- heavenly food. And it doesn't matter how long it'll take. What matters is that food will come to her- or she will come to it.

Yellow tightened the grip on her fishing rod as Kitty's wings flapped several times before they launched into the air, its line swinging below them. She kicked themselves off the ground and they took flight, and from that height they had launched, it seems as if Gravvy and Dody looked like ants- they'd gone too far up but she already knew how to control Kitty's flights just by instinct- but in this case and situation, she was to do it out of hunger.

"Okay- wait-" she stopped. Kitty did too, but he was still hovering his wings like mad, apparently not used to her weight- Yellow hadn't flown with her for a fair few years- Yellow didn't notice that for a while, because she was busy staring at the island- were they that far up now?- with pure interest.

It was. . . just like an ordinary island. But they weren't high up enough for Yellow to see all the island- she couldn't even see the half of it. She was just about to ask Kitty to fly a bit higher. . . when he already did.

"This is higher than we'd ever flown, Kitty!" she cried, panicking, the fishing rod in her grasp literally slipping from her grip as her hands grew colder from nervousness- a sort of weird habit her hands did whenever they were uneasy or nervous- or panicky.

Yellow's feet were trembling with terror and fright- though she was more interested in the view when she looked down to stare. What she saw struck realization into her mind and her panic had been replaced- what an unexpected surprise, her emotion had been replaced by something else. . . that seemed to be too predictable now- with an urge to discover more until all her questions were answered- and be explained thoroughly.

She felt her mouth hang in her jaw as she stared. She held up a hand when she sensed Kitty make a move. Yellow gazed into the island more thoroughly and squinted her eyes: Mirage Island looked slightly smaller than the island she, Uncle Wilton and Gold had been stranded to attempting to reach Slateport but missed that _and_ Pacifidlog with the boat. . . which, Yellow had guessed, sank or crashed- she smirked- along with Silver's ipod Gold borrowed. The school alone seemed to take as much space as _half_ of the island. Or more. There was Ample Plains. . . where she'd lain unconscious. . . for a month. Or something.

Something unpleasant lurched inside Yellow's stomach. She'd just darted her eyes to more of the island's features when she stopped as her heart leapt over her chest and felt it beating still within her neck. Mirage Island. . . _had_ no oceans.

It was. . . floating. Just. . . floating. . . Above nothing. . . And mist seemed to endlessly surround it. . . Floating above nothing and ignoring the fact that an unknown fog arises every now and then and surrounding the island. Mirage Island only has a small town occupying it within the range of more than half of the island- maybe reaching 75%- the rest of the island looks deserted. . . And that's where Ample Plains was. Yellow squinted her eyes a bit more and gulped.

"Kitty. . ." she murmured quietly. She heard- and was sure she understood him, the only one who ever did, literally- what he said in response and she nodded slowly, agreeing with him. Yellow wanted to say something more when she went on ruthlessly, but nervously and absentmindedly, "I know. . . Either it's just my hunger. . . or this island was an insanely crazy idea to come up with to live here whether or not they had a choice between hell and survival. . ."

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: _Yay! I finished this one! I finally did! After all that work! After all the nights I hadn't slept- A FEAT!_**

**GOLD: _Not exactly one, though. _**

**YELLOW: _Nicole-chan mentioned once again the missing ipod of Silver's. _**

**GOLD: _(Grumbles). . ._**

**ME: _It's your choice whether you'd like to review or not because I've no control over you whatsoever and I'm not forcing you to. . . Though it would be nice to know what you guys think. Thanks to all those who'd read! You guys rock! And special thanks to those who took time and actually gave FEEDBACK to me! It means a LOT! Anyway, moving on. . . Weird, right? Two accidents at once? It all had something to do next chapter. But I've to admit, this one's really short, all of my recent chapters had all been. _**


	11. Bill

**AUTHOR'S NOTE **

**ME: **_**Well, it's been a few chapters long now and I can't hide my happiness! I think it's only've been a month and now I've got TEN chapters going! Holy fudge, I really AM in a hurry. **_

**YELLOW: **_**Oosh. . . TEN chapters?**_

**GOLD: **_**Can't you count?**_

**YELLOW: **_**Of course I can! Though. . . what's Nicole-chan gonna do after THIS?**_

**GOLD: . . . **

**GOLD: **_**Yeah, good point. What ARE you gonna do after this?**_

**ME: **_**A few Harry Potter stories, I guess! But only a Oneshot's in my mind, so that means only one chapter which is equivalent to about three and a half days of work without the internet and 55% of the work given to typing the story with the idea of what I'm going to do divided by 23 hours and 56 minutes (approximately 24 hours to daylight) and 30 minutes of taking the story within the range of 3 and a half days to the internet I'd say it'll be a few weeks' time until I finish this story. **_

**GOLD: **_**WT*? o.O**_

**YELLOW: **_**What. . . was THAT?**_

**ME: **_**What, even though I'm clueless doesn't mean I can't be Math-smart (SMILES SHEEPISHLY) **_

**GOLD: **_**. . . THAT. . . was. . . CLUELESS WORK?**_

**ME: **_**Yeah, compared to my other brainy friends. They work faster than that, I guess. **_

**YELLOW: **_**So you're telling us that you're clueless by COMPARISON?**_

**ME: **_**Oh well! Now that that's done, thanks for everything, everyone! **_

**GOLD: **_**Seriously, you call yourself an idiot yet you managed to understand WT* you just said, so what in your crappy opinion are Yellow and I?**_

**ME: **_**Erm, can you rephrase that? (SMILES SHEEPISHLY) **_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**Pika127: Oh? Well- (scans dictionary for need of better word)- I've never felt so contrite and- (synonyms, snynonyms)- com-pun-c-chi-uos- right, COMPUNCTIOUS in my life for making you feel as conscience-smitten as I am now. As penitential as I am now, I can't bear to see- is that supposed to be READ?- anyone sad. It just makes ME sad. **_

_**So we'll just get on with the story!**_

**TENTH CHAPTER: BILL**

**Y**ellow gaped at staring at the island above it, Kitty's wings fluttering violently of her dead weight which came unnoticed to her. She closed her mouth and felt it go dry as all the saliva in her mouth evaporated or simply just went down the drain- and by drain it meant the tube that directs food into the stomach. . .

Speaking of stomach. . .

Yellow's stomach had been growling like a monster now- she can't help it, she was hungry, but her growing interest in the island was much worth it than having a full stomach.

She darted her eyes from one part of the island to another and it suddenly became clear to her as flashes of memories exploded inside her mind's eye and kept on nagging her what was left behind all this time she'd been here and she couldn't remember, all those times she heard herself mutter in her dreams. . . All it needed was one answer. . .

This was what Barty had drawn in his calligraphy.

This was what nagged Yellow all those times. . . And this was it. Mirage Island. Gold told her all about it and she was worried about how boyishly she acts- she kind of felt weird and guilty at the thought of it but now, it all seemed too weird to be true. . . An island that he said had been banished from the face of the earth and will return in one month. . . One month equivalent to seven here and divided by how time was split is the answer: _3-and-a-half months_.

Another answer popped right in front of Yellow, an answer that proved her to be right about hiding her true gender and taking refuge as an islander for a while- _Bill_.

Bill- Bill- Bill. . . He'd be the answer to everything here, in Yellow's life here, in Mirage Island. . . All she needed was to find him- which would be hard, she didn't see his face- she was feeling guilty of what she had done instead but now was not the time to worry about that- although Red_ did_. More than that, he KNEW him. He was his best friend along with Green. The whole lot of them were best friends, and yet Yellow had never felt so idiotic in her entire life- she would've just _seen_ his face if it weren't for Red's-

Hold on- why was _she_ blaming _him_?

"Kitty-" she managed to whisper out of shock, but Kitty wasn't answering back. Yellow craned her neck and looked up. . .

Yellow's eyes widened in both surprise and horror as Kitty's wings were flapping slowly and apparently, he seemed to be reaching his limit now, pulling themselves up so high in the sky seemed to have weaken him along with her weight that's heaving them down- was this plan going to shambles as-

"Oh cra- -"

She could feel herself being pulled down- her straw hat was beginning to slip from her grasp along with her fishing rod- but that wasn't the point, though she kept clutching them both tightly with both of her hands- she can't die now, she just_ can't_- _What will Gold and Uncle Wilton say_? She managed to open her eyes despite the wind forcing them to shut and saw that Kitty was falling ahead of her.

Panic rising in her body and fear creeping behind her spine even as she continued to fall, she dived headfirst so that she and Kitty will at least hold on to each other before they die. . .

_Death was waiting for them to come_, she realised too late as she made swimming gestures over to Kitty, who was- even though his eyes were wide open, but he's a Bug-type after all- unconscious during their fall-_ Fall to DEATH_?

Yellow couldn't_ believe _she'd fallen again from her attempt to_ fish _over the boulder-thingy, because this must be her_ worst _yet- Kitty had already lost conscious and Yellow was left to use her instincts on what to do- why hadn't she noticed this earlier? What the_ hell _has gotten into her when they'd flown a few hundred feet higher up?

"No, Kitty- _please_ wake up! I don't even know how to _fly_!" she pleaded, trying to wake Kitty up whilst falling down the sky about over 300 feet- she held on to her fishing rod for safety and for dear life and didn't care what was going on as she closed her eyes, hugging Kitty with her left hand so that he wouldn't die as well.

Curiosity had gotten the best of her and now they're gonna _DIE_- how pathetic was that? Was this the second time she almost died within the last five minutes? Yellow didn't feel idiotic at all anymore- but something worse made her stomach feel horrible, something more than idiocy:_ guilt_. Was this because she didn't notice her pokemon's feeble attempts at hovering in the air with her dead weight? She hadn't flown him for _years_!

Then again, she knew this moment was going to come, she knew what must be done- nothing- and knew that her time was up. . . just now. Yellow closed her eyes automatically as these thoughts ran inside her mind. . . Though if she'd chosen the best place to die, she would rather it would be within her house because the last persons she wanted to see were her family and friends (Though Blue, Chris and Platinum would be way creeped out by Gold. Maybe Sapphire would come, at least).

This was the stupidest way to die.

"Please God, give me a chance," she prayed, her eyes open now, gulping nervously- she felt like they were only a few feet from death now. . . "If You wanted me to die, then this was the _least_ place I wanted to die-"

She felt Kitty flap his wings and she grabbed the oppurtunity to climb on his back- though she paid it with a price as a gust of wind swept by them as they fell-

"Ah, m-my ha. . ." she said hopelessly as she tried to jump from Kitty's back the same time she managed to successfully climb behind him but only reached out her hand because Kitty wasn't giving her any chances for that. Her straw hat was flying away as it drifted along the wind's currents. . .

Kitty launched his wings and- Yellow didn't know where they were headed for her eyes were blinded by the leaves and dust the gust had blown into her eyes- Yellow felt rocks brush against her hair and her skin before she heard a splash: they landed-

"What the-? This is the pond!" Yellow gasped, swimming toward the corner of the pool, soaked. She noticed that the corner of the small pond was disgustingly mossy with- with _moss_, but this was no time to be concerned of such petty things. Yellow spit the water in her mouth so that she could breath properly- and more importantly, _think_ properly.

She glanced behind her shoulder and looked for any signs of Kitty. "K-Kitty!" she said, gasping still, the water still trying to calm itself from their unusual timing of landing in there with a splash. She clutched her fishing rod and dived into the water, trying to look for any signs of life- and, hopefully- Kitty.

It was actually a good thing they had landed on water- Yellow was, of course, nearly as good in swimming as she was in fishing. Water sports seemed to be what she does best. Running will be a nightmare. She held her breath for a while, opening her eyes in the clean, fresh water: it was a pond, after all. She was surprised to see that a great amount of Fish Pokemon (along with_ fish_, sweet, delicious fish) was inside the boulder-wall-thingy. She squinted her eyes for a better sight.

She had already wasted fifteen seconds of breath but she can hold a whole lot longer than that- and for a really good reason, she'll have to try her best to stay underwater. Yellow wanted to blink, but that just might let her go back up again: she had dived almost three meters underwater already and still hadn't found Kitty yet. She definitely heard another splash before her.

She couldn't have imagined it. Kitty_ must _be here. She felt her hair drift along with her in the water and tried her hardest not to remember when the last time she'd bathed in the ocean. . . It was a long time ago, when she hadn't faked her gender yet. She shook her hand aggressively. She was distracting herself. Good Lord. . . she was acting like _Chris_. Was this kind of experience inexplicably turning Yellow into her? It wasn't bad, though it wouldn't hurt to have fun once in a while.

Something moved. She was sure of it. It wasn't blue or anything- it was white. Pulling down her hair so that she wouldn't feel so restricted much that had prevented her from swimming freely, she swam in a backstroke over to that area, feeling the air in her mouth pop up any second. But it can't be- it was still. . .

"Mmmmmphh-!"

Yellow felt her foot being strangled by something. She was so caught in surprise that she literally let out a scream but no sound came out- instead of her voice, it was air in the form of bubbles. She'd lost her time underwater. . .

"Kmmmmm bwo bwooo. . ." she moaned, barely feeling the grip she was giving on her fishing rod- she couldn't breathe, and she had to get herself out of this situation. . . She can't die after twice of nearly getting killed by falling. . . This must be an off-day for her or something. Three times in a row. . .

Her ankle was sore and she couldn't feel it anymore- she felt her life being sapped away from her- again- and she still hadn't found Kitty. . . Her pokeballs were right in her belt bag- if she could just reach it-_ Omny, he's the right one to be here, it's underwater, he'd fight this thing_-

But the problem is, she doesn't even _know _what this thing was. If Omny had a disadvantage, they're done for- and it seemed as if _she_ was the first to be done for. Though dying seemed to be a pretty better way to live than living here in Mirage Island. . . What was she _thinking_, she's still alive and can just wait for death- but that. . . is a death option.

She looked down below her- it was too dark to see its other features, but she was sure she saw a _hand_, a white one- but it couldn't possibly be _human_, could it? This deep in a pond and had such strength. . . Her breath was short-lived, and so was _she_. . . Using the last strength she had, she reached for Omny's pokeball slowly as the creature-thingy and her went deeper into the pond- she realized that 4 minutes had already elapsed- and her breath had already gone just so long ago.

Just as she was about to finally touch the button that releases Omny, something had prevented it from happening: Yellow couldn't hold the remaining air she had longer- she had to force them out. . . Thinking it may not be of much use anyway, she thought of loosening her grip on the fishing rod in her other hand to decrease the weight- but instead, it just tightened and Yellow struck the rod at the creature-thingy and it let out a cry- not a _battle _cry- she released the air in her mouth and bubbles escaped from it: the grip of the creature-thingy had loosened and she was able to move now- but sorely, because its grasp on her hand and ankle seemed to have weakened her too much for her to carry on. . .

It was a Poliwhirl. . . White hands, and the strength- but she didn't know what came over it to drag her deeper underwater- its eyes were poked by her rod and it seemed to have swam away in fright, though Yellow could read its mind and what she extracted was rage. But it was all over now, she'll eventually drift upwards and not die, though her efforts were wasted: she hadn't found Kitty. But it was herself she should worry about- her air had gone into the form of bubbles and she doesn't have something to breathe with. . .

Yellow felt herself drift below the surface of the pond. . . This was a pathetic and weird way to die. . . The weirdest part was _where _she had to die. . . But nothing can get weirder than this other than dying by falling from the sky.

The pond was a little bigger than she thought it was. The circumference was just the size of seven men formed in a circle, but she guessed that below the boulder-wall-thingy and the ground that lead to the wall of the school- the reason why there was no window in the back of it- was that just beneath it was another part of the pond. That explains why the ground Dody had run on was so hard: there must be some kind of hard cement that supports the weight of the school- a _really hard_ kind, kind of like a Caterpie's _String Shot _skill mixed with the hard, steely elements that forms a Metagross.

She could've sworn she'd heard a splash. . . then thought she saw something move in the corner of her eye. . . But everything was a blur to her now- something was motioning towards her- either it was human or pokemon, it can't be worse than the one that attacked her, can it? It had hands- it must be human, then- and had feet: he or she- _he_, because it was Mirage Island, of course- swam closer to her and seemed to have halted.

Yellow wanted to let him know that she was there- but didn't move. She just floated upwards slowly of the bouyancy and felt her whole body ease and she saw everything blur and fade into nothingness- in the pitch-black she thought she felt him close to her and that was all she could get out from this situation forward. . . She'd fainted.

...

"Yellow, wake up, wake up. . . "

Something stirred in front of her mind's eye. Everything swirled and the colors had changed, twirling into focus- Yellow squinted her eyes only. She wanted to be sure where she was before making a mistake and misunderstanding again. There was light: the flourescent light was a bit dim- she could see the sunlight shining through the curtains and was even brighter than it did. Sunlight. . . She could feel the atmosphere in the room tell her- not exactly _tell_ her, but you know- it was noon, that day she'd fainted- had it not elapsed a day yet? She realized that it was the first day of the month- time here must be going too slow for the time in Hoenn.

It was pure instinct that told her not to open her eyes too wide yet: why? This is the _third_ time she'd been lying unconscious by something- either from a storm/mudstorm or underwater. It just _had_ to associate with _water_- and had been awoken by people she had _yet_ to know. This was all too _de ja vu _for her. And yes- she understands French but can't speak it, sad, but true.

Yellow remained still and silent and her eyes were squinted to see who was waking her up- still, because the dolt still doesn't know she was awake. Red and Green waking her up was different. She trusts them.

_Yeah, but you just don't have enough guts to tell them your're a _girl_._

Wait, where's that coming from?

_Are you _kidding_ me? It seems as if _I'm_ the only one with brains. _

You're my brain, aren't you? If you are, then that's why you're the one with brains =P

_You're making faces at yourself if I'm part of you._

Unebeknownst to both Yellow and her brain- er, Yellow only- the man had looked dubious. Yellow snapped back to reality from _hers_ and snapped open her eyes abruptly when the man had said, "Yellow, I know you're awake."

When she opened her eyes, she saw a man- no doubt only a few years older than both Red and Green- staring at her with friendly eyes- friendly _black_ eyes. Nothing but shock and surprise overcame her- but panic. He knew now- after all, he must be the one who rescued her from underwater- she had to thank him properly for saving her and for not doing, you know, _it_- he had brown hair, a brunette, and Yellow's stomach did a backflip- she knew this man, grinning down at her sheepishly- he arranged his necktie- he looked like he had just graduated school and Yellow had never seen anyone look so professional- and his collar. His long sleeved work shirt seemed to be too clean for its own good, in Yellow's opinion, because the guy just doesn't have any dirty spots; his hair was neat, calmer and nicer-looking than that of both Red's and Green's. He was cleaner and neater than Gold, Red and Green combined.

Yellow wanted to speak, but she can't. She was still in a bit of a shock. She gulped and tugged her turtle neck nervously. Bill looked down upon her, still smiling- she could feel her knees weak: was she a _sucker_ or what? First it was Green then Red- then Bill, or is it just her liking for nice men? Either way, she still thinks that appearance will be the last thing she'll look for in a guy- but something inside her says in Blue's flirty voice, whispering in her ear: _Don't think of me as shallow, but you must agree: if you like to have cute-looking babies, then at least you'll get a fifty-fifty chance if you nab a cute guy._

"You fell a fair few times, you know? Because- I guess you already know this- beneath the school is a magnetic field to keep the classroom on top of the pond, because if that goes out of hand- and your fishing rod's at the table- I'm sorry- but the bouyancy of the water has been tampered with because of the magnetic field and can't work like that anymore, so that's what kept you from rising up the water."

So now Yellow knows what the reason was for her falls. She didn't speak yet.

Bill took a seat next to her on the bed, looking sheepish still, and Yellow raised her bed sheet covers up to her nose, trying to cover what had already been seen- no, not _anything_ bad, she was talking about her _hair_- and it was pulled down, so it was already obvious she was a girl. They sat in silence still when Yellow said meekly, "Who are you?"

_Somehow_, she already knew the answer before he replied. Of _course_ she did, but she's got nothing to talk about to start a conversation- apart from _Where am I_? And that _somehow _had black pointy hair.

Bill moved his lips and said, looking at her now, raising his head from his reverie, "Bill, just call me Bill, Yellow."

She recalled him saying her name a bunch of times now- _why_ does he know? She opened her mouth to ask and what came out was a shy, "Owdidooknow?"

For the first time in a fair few days, she heard someone laugh at her. Yellow smiled slightly, still shy, and still shut up. She was so not like herself now- on the contrary, in fact- and gave a sigh. Bill covered his mouth to shut himself up and, looking as though he was trying to fight the urge to laugh- unsuccesfully, like Gold- said, "Oh, Yellow- I've known for quite a while now."

Panic stricken, Yellow tried to hide it and still remained to be quiet. Had Red told him? If he did- does that- even as much as Yellow knows she likes (a little) the guy- idiot know? If Bill told him, she swore to beat the daylights out of him using Gravvy-

"Gravvy. . . Kitty. . . Dody," she muttered hoarsely, looking anywhere but nowhere. Where in hell were they? She felt Bill's eyes look at her in smitten, and- even though she wasn't really listening, she heard him- said, he seemed to be raising his eyebrows, "Your Graveler, Butterfree and Dodrio? I returned them to your pokeballs once I've found them."

"Thanks," said Yellow, her voice cracking. Then another thought appeared in her mind, wanting to question it, "Why didn't you-?"

"Why didn't I follow the rules and did _it_ with you?" said Bill, his eyebrows still raised. Yellow nodded mutely- how did he even know? It's like he could read her mind like an open book or something- something Yellow had despised so dearly was that anyone could read her thoughts and use it against her in a sly way, she was reminded instantly of her best friend Blue. But it was clear that a blush crossed his face and he looked away immediately. "I wanted to help you. And, besides, I've got someone else in mind, anyway."

Yellow looked at him curiously, when she raised her head, Bill was looking apprehensive.

"No, I'm _not_ homosexual, you know," he said, sounding hurt, still not looking at her- Yellow was beginning to feel the corners of her mouth twitch involuntarily and break a smirk- "And I'm not going to tell you, anyway. And Red's cancelled your tour round Mirage Island."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Thanks for taking time to read, everyone! I know it's kinda short =P Shortest one YET! Keep loving, smiling and all the other important things else. And I hope you understood the explanation- again. =P You know, about the bouyancy. **_

**YELLOW: **_**At least I did now.**_

**GOLD: **_**I still don't =(**_


	12. Professor Elm

**AUTHOR'S NOTE **

**ME: **_**Yeah, yeah, I know- last chapter was the shortest because I have a reason: my sister keeps nagging me to give my laptop to her I just had it- that's just a phrase, because SHE'S the one that got it. After all- she IS bigger than me.**_

**GOLD: **_**Coward. =P**_

**ME: **_**(GLARE) You'd have thought differently if YOU'D seen her. She's HUGER than me.**_

**GOLD: **_**Don't doubt that. You're 4'9. =)**_

**ME: **_**I'm still in FRESHMAN! I'll grow into it!**_

**YELLOW: **_**You remind me of Emerald-chan now. =)**_

**RESPONSE TO REVIEWS**

_**Pika127: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES! Oh, and that was Kitty's FLIGHT TO FREEDOM. **_

**ME: **_**So, all-in-all, not my best chapter, this one. Hehehe. . . As I'd said, I'm quite in a hurry. I still believe that "end-of-the-world" thing is rubbish, though I've no reason to rush =P Weird, right?**_

**GOLD: **_**WAIT- WHO told you it's the end of the world?**_

**YELLOW: **_**Calm down, Gold-cha- Gold! It's said so on television, but I don't believe it either.**_

**GOLD: **_**A gullible girl like you? How COME?**_

**YELLOW: **_**I just don't =) Plus, it all seems weird to me, because I believe Uncle Wilton more than that TV set. **_

**GOLD: **_**. . . **_

**ME: **_**(IGNORING GOLD AND YELLOW) Beware! This chapter is randomly OOC! But it gets kinda in character soon. Oh, and it's got slight Bill/Yellow. (AHEM) You've been warned. TWICE.**_

**ELEVENTH CHAPTER: PROFESSOR ELM**

**R**ed's cancelled their tour round Mirage Island? How come? Yellow was aching to find out why, because it really is a wonder to find Red cancelling something. Her thoughts were running things around like this over and over in her mind, keeping track of everything behind it: she was wrong. There _wasn't _any kind of special Caterpie _String Shot_ or Metagross's whatsits- it was simply a magnetic field designed to keep the classroom above the pond safe from crumbling into the water below it: she wondered again whether it was a Swimming Class or something. But that still doesn't explain how the boulder-wall-thingy was full of space inside yet it was so strong and durable. She lowered her bed sheets and played with curling her hair, frowning, thinking deeply.

Bill seemed to have been thinking over this as well, because there was a silence that meant both people in the room to be thinking deeply and the same thoughts as well- was Bill thinking of why Red did that too? Yellow wanted to ask, but whenever she did try, he seemed to be one sentence ahead of her. So she didn't ask- not yet, because the atmosphere seemed to be telling her that everyone in the room was thinking deeply- or just waiting the other to speak up before they do. Yellow had never thought of that and said something quietly, her feet tangled with themselves and sitting that way with her hands in the middle of them, "How'd you dry me up?"

This was to break the tension between them and Yellow had never recalled asking something more embarrassing- she felt her stomach grip her intestines _intensely_ as if for dear life- her voice cracked in a way that it always does whenever she wakes up in the morning to find her voice throaty. She could feel Bill move in his seat apprehensively. Was it that bad? She'd heard from Red before sprawling into sleep last night about him being a 'prissy'. But otherwise, he seemed fine. In a way, he reminded her of Red. Green- well, being _Green_- and Bill had nothing in common except their unwillingness to speak too much.

After a moment's hesitation of pausing, Bill spoke up before Yellow could say something else, edging from her sitting position to look at Bill's face and was so startled she backed away again, "It was simple, to be honest. I've Vulpix with me- I let him warm you up, you know- _Sunny Day_. You were really very wet."

Yellow's stomach loosened its grip in her intestines and gave a sigh of relief. Her stomach was so dirty-minded- but her heart's constant hammering in her chest seemed to have calmed down. She cursed her unstable control over herself and continued to look around the room to keep her mind off things- good things- and think over the bad things while she's still got time before she'll _die_ again. The keyword _again_. No more no less, it looked like Red's dorm only cleaner and had less clothes scattered on the floor- and pretty much everywhere else- and the pile of clothes- neatly cleaned unlike Red's- were inside the cupboard at the side of the room, which doors were wide open. The television looked smaller and- normal. Though there was a small shelf beside the lamp table with a handle- was that a mini _fridge_? Made sense, since the television was made for it.

The floor- instead of hard, stony marble like Red's had- was entirely covered with a mat. For comfort? Or for refraining from slips and accidents? Either way, she thought it was a better idea than cold, stony marble. It was better to feel than of it when it's morning, honestly, because it would still be warmer than the cold floor.

Then there was no window- but there was a screen-glass door and a small balcony- smaller than one half of the quarter of this room, even. It was really quite small- and had a few flower pots at the corners.

The whole entire room had been painted with a humid color of gray- very dull to look at, but there were definite signs of a wallpaper being stripped from it because there were marks of wood at the corners. She guessed that maybe he was painting it before pasting another wallpaper.

It was then she'd realized that this wasn't in any of the school dorms at all: it was _very _different- and another reason why she realized was the view she was staring at outside- they seemed to be somewhere different. . . But they were still in the school, she knew that background. Red and herself had passed that before their heated discussion about. . . things. This looked like-

"I found your straw hat at the edge of the pond," said Bill abruptly, as if that were to defuse the tension blooming in the room silently. Yellow snapped into reality from _hers_ once again and shifted in her seat nervously- her- she gulped- h-hat? Hadn't that been swept away? Edge of the pond. . . The gust of wind must've carried it there. She'd landed on the pond as well- rather, _within_- so maybe Kitty had followed the gust of wind, too. "There wasn't anything wrong with it- it's just wet and I've let it out the balcony to dry- because, you know, Vulpix might set it in fire."

Yellow smiled weakly. Bill laughed at his own joke and smiled wide when he'd seen hers. He meant well. But that doesn't solve _anything_ at all. He told her why he didn't- wanted: in need of a better word to understand or just a codename- _do anything horrible _to her while she was unconscious- and he'd had his chance: _twice_. He'd said that because he was seeing on someone else- but how could that be possible when he's in a banished island full of _men_? This made things more complicated- maybe he was. . . No, no, no.

No. He said he wasn't, so there it is, the answer. Yellow considered this for a moment. Nope, that _still_ doesn't answer _anything_. This was the third time she'd been awoken by someone she doesn't know. . . yet- on that small island it was Barty and Uncle Wilton in a discussion, here it was Red and Green, and now it was Bill. And the reason for her unconsciousness was the same thing: _water_. She ran this things inside her head a _million_ of times and tried to convince herself it wasn't _her_ that's crazy- it was her _fate_, that's what.

For a second, Yellow didn't know what to do out of emptiness and nothingness: she was on her own to think now and- thinking she had no other oppurtunity to- she seized the chance and began to think about how she was going to live her next 74 days here. She let these thoughts run in her mind before someone else tries to interrupt her: in the past month, she'd fallen asleep unconscious. In only a _day_, she found herself hungry and in front of two guys she doesn't know. That same day a few minutes after that she'd battled against a mad Vaporeon. Just a few minutes after that, she'd come face-to-face with Mirage Island's town's mayor and Green's grandfather, Professor Samuel Oak. Next, aforementioned professor had told her the mechanics of Mirage Island and she ended up turning into a human hosepipe- she somehow felt angry about that and made a mental note to herself to control her emotions from now on- and soon after she'd met with Red again and shared a room with him and knew that to be a mistake because he was holding up her. . . Anyway- Yellow felt her face heating up a sentence back- she woke up next morning and found out she was hungry-

"Bill!" said Yellow, half-shouting. She'd never believe herself- she forgot her hunger out of the order of things- and now she was somewhere with someone with some stomach that ached very much from famish. She practically stood on the bed, a part of her hair falling down her shoulders. Bill stood up from the bed as well- kinda, Yellow was on bed and he wasn't- and raised his eyebrows. "D'you have food? I'm _so_ hungry! I realized why I fell on the pond in the first place!"

Bill looked dubious at first, then gave Yellow a weird look that was unreadable even for her. Just _what _was he trying to throw at her? She was so hungry. . . And he gives her that- that- _what _is he giving her? Hadn't he realized that he was the one who'd made her _starve_ for not waking her up there at Ample Plains before Red and Green did? Hold on- why _did _he not wake her up first? But food was first in her list so all questions must be asked after eating and having a full and healthy stomach.

She wanted to ask him just_ what _was he giving her- that- that look of his- it's so unreadable- she can't even read it- it was like she'd never seen anyone this. . . what's the word? Curious? No, that was too much. Eager? Still too much. But he was throwing her a look that was cross between confused and curious. _What_ was that word she needed so badly? First he looks at her in suspicion now he looks so- so- _weird_. An unreadable expression tells someone that he is finding words to speak. . .

"Are you. . . serious?" he said, breaking himself- and _Yellow_- from his- or their- reverie. _Serious_? Had he _ever _been hungry at all? No, the question was- was _HE _serious. She looked at him in disbelief. She jumped out of the bed, her hair a mess but she didn't care, her hands crossed across her chest, showing the famous Verde wrath of hunger by nipping a pokeball from her pocket fiercely and showing it just in front of Bill's eyes for him to see.

"N-now, don't th-threat me," he said- though he held his arms up as if he were a criminal, flailing them slightly, looking as weak and powerless as Yellow wanted him to be. she lead him to a wall and there was where she pinned him and he gave a loud- even Yellow did it out of surprise slightly, inaudibly- wince. He was looking panicky and his hands were feeling their way to reach for something long and fit for a weapon- like a stick or something. Yellow was too quick for him when she took notice of his apprehensiveness and it was really obvious since he'd accidentally knocked over a vase in his- unsuccessful- attempt to reach- or feel, by the looks of it- something to threat her back: she forced her sore wrist to move her hand to nip another pokeball from her belt bag and moved closer to him to show him her pokeballs in close-up.

"I'm not," she whispered, the corner of her mouth twitching, though in spite of Bill's constant wincing, she forced herself to extend her arm for him to take a good look at them- but he was closing his eyes. "Tell me, Mister Bill, I'm desperate- _where's the food_? I've been starving for a _day_ from sleeping a whole_ month_ with no food- and now I've been found by none other than the guy who _kidnapped_ me here- how ironic, isn't it? But if you don't have a _single _scrap- even a_ crumb_- of bread, I swear in the name of God that I will-"

"_All right, all right! Just get it from the fridge, okay? Just don't drink the root beer_!" said Bill, noticing the close distance between himself, Chuchu- whose cheeks were dangerously color maroon- and Omny- whose tentacles were murderously dancing as if they were jelly. His eyes looked narrowed and he'd rubbed them from too close vision carefully.

Suddenly, Yellow's angry and serious expression was replaced by a look of satisfaction and content as she moved away slowly from Bill's face- dragging her pokeballs with her and pocketing it, she dug her hands in her pockets to keep it from the cold air conditioner and smiled up at him.

"Okay, thanks!" she said, grinning up at him and bending down to open the door of the fridge- it really was small- by pulling open the handle- the fridge was silver and the handle had been black, but it seemed to be in contrast with the dull walls.

"Woah-hoah," she said, noticing the amount of food he kept inside- for himself. What- was this corned beef or moss? And there was chocolate- she'll have that for dessert along with the ice cream. . . Oh, and there were graham crackers there- something nice to eat for breakfast or something- the mossy corned beef-thing won't help. It looks like mold. . . So whipped cream looked nice with the graham and there was leche flan there- that would be _best_ with both the graham and whipped cream- fried chicken in the fridge, that looked good for lunch, she'll just have to heat it up in the oven, if there is one- turkey will be for dinner then dessert. . . But today was lunchtime. . .

Bill felt his back slide down against the wall he was leaning and scratched his head incredulously, staring at Yellow's figure bent down on the floor, already licking her lips in hunger: she had already pulled out a few plates- _several_, to be honest- and had laid them on the table beside the screen-door balcony. His mouth was hung open and he had never met anyone so- so- what's the word?- mood changing?- no, _famished_ seemed more like it. _Desperately __**famished**_, that was it. He watched as Yellow close the fridge door and shoved food into her mouth almost greedily before Bill saw her toss her pokeballs into the air and nearly hit the ceiling- three pokemon popped out and let out roars- as he watched her continue her lunch- breakfast and dinner at the same time- he was paying more attention to her pokemon: a Raticate, a Pikachu and an Omastar? Those pokemon look too trusting. . . But there was something so threatening about them if they get close with Yellow. . . Bill didn't want to cross her either way.

"Wowom, guys, eaddup!" she said after gulping, her face covered in whipped cream. Her pokemon- Chuchu and Omny, who were looking as hungry as she was- jumped on the table- in Omny's case, lifted himself up by using his tentacles- and gobbled down food hungrier than Yellow had. Bill stared as he adjusted his collar nervously- he wouldn't want to cross her in any way when she's hungry. Or rather, not ask her if she's serious about being famished- of_ course _she was.

She knew Red, he knew him well, one of his best friends- but Yellow hadn't told him yet about her true gender- then was he truly liable enough to keep her secret? He'd recalled what his grandmother had once told him about his deceased mother and father. . .

_"Ha! Stephanie was a whole lot cookoo in the computer than you'd think! Always working on something there- You'd have thought it was her work in the impermet-"_

_"_Internet_," muttered Bill silently, more to himself than to his grandmother, who was continuing describing his parents in loving and fond detail in a guffaw._

_"- and Jonathan- oh, you wouldn't _believe_ him- good old chap, nice to be with. . . But if you tell him a secret he'll spill every detail out- you'd just have to look at him!"_

Does that mean that Yellow had given her secret away- reluctantly and unconsciously- to a complete stranger? A stranger she barely knows? She knew Red and Red knew her- they got along very well- but how about the both of them, himself and Yellow? He'd gotten a feeling that she hadn't taken lightly about him kidnapping her here. . . It's not like she had much of a choice, though- but what if he _hadn't _known Yellow's secret- would he be trustworthy enough to be keeping this huge a secret? It's not like she wanted to, either. Because seeing the look on Yellow's face earlier, she seemed to be upset about something.

Yellow chomped down few plates already and still had two more to go- she'd never felt so hungry and so happy at the same time in her whole life. It was then that she'd realized this: life without food is nothing but death. Food is glorious and she'll never complain about having less pancakes than Gold- which cause is still unknown to her, but Gold always did say that there's someone at the door: it was always Ataro. She often wondered why he told her he takes nightly swings around Viridian Forest- it turns out that Ataro never _did_ leave the house. . . until Gold said there's someone knocking at the door.

She wiped the food that never came into her mouth that had just been in her lips and cheeks the whole time and licked the whipped cream. Yellow paused eating to watch her pokemon gobble unconsciously- and greedily: it seemed as if they were the only ones there, them and the food. She took one big gulp and blinked a fair few times before her eyebrows disappeared below her bangs- there was something definitely missing, and she almost came to the conclusion that it was guilt. Survivor's guilt, to put it in a way.

"Say, Bill," said Yellow so suddenly, so unpredictably, Bill winced and stood up from the corner straight, and gulped nervously, biting his lip as he did. Then his expression became clueless when he'd seen hers; she was moody, that's what. And she was speaking in a sort of guilty whisper, which Bill was most conscious about. Was she worried about something, perhaps? He raised his eyebrows and dug his hands in his pockets before pulling them out, now with three pokeballs on hand. Yellow's eyebrows disappeared under her bangs again, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Those're-!"

"Finish your sentence first," said Bill, raising a steady finger up with his right hand. His gaze was on her pokemon- who'd paused eating to look at them both, their mouths closed but a food bits stuck in their cheeks that went unnoticed by the three of them. Yellow looked at him hopelessly that it seems as if her aggressive attitude hadn't happened- keep in mind that that happened just a few seconds ago- earlier. Bill was easily reminded of a young girl staring at chocolate in a glass window and thought that this, too, was weirdly adorable. His gaze followed into Yellow's- he glanced down and stared at her pokeballs in his hand. He shook his head and turned to face her. "Go on, then."

Yellow seemed to have lost all the fight in her and, looking cresfallen, she mumbled, regretting what she'd begun earlier and hadn't continued, "Have you- you know- I mean, how did you know my name? Did Red tell you?"

Bill flinched- was this what she'd thought of earlier that made her upset? Red? He knew it, though didn't count on it happening; Yellow was worried that Red will find out about her gender and tried to keep that secret from him- it wasn't actually keeping a secret from just anybody, but from- of _all _the fully learned prostit- Bill didn't dare continue that word even in his mind- _Red_. Was it possible- wait, Green was with him, wasn't he? But why wasn't Yellow worrying about him? Yellow looked at him nervously, looking as though she'd regretted it sincerely saying that.

"Green's told me, and while he's been bombarding me with questions, he's- Yellow, he's _figured it out_," Bill conceeded, looking at Yellow apologetically. Yellow stared with her mouth hanging like a vine in a tree. He dropped his arms, slouching, defeated. He'd recalled that day, when he spreaded the rumour that he'd been mistaking Yellow for a girl- it was a month ago. A few weeks later, that rumour landed on Green's ears, and he'd been asking him questions, apparently not believing the rumour to be true, for he knew that he wasn't wearing glasses for a reason: Bill had amazing knowledge and intellect, and will differentiate one pokemon to another. "He'd figured it out just a few days ago- he's never tired of suspecting me of that rumour and he kept asking me every after my classes-"

"You're a teacher?" asked Yellow before she could catch herself- she'd been listening carefully but was also catching every word he's said. Bill nodded. So this must mean that this was his teacher's room-

"Yes, I am- a professor, actually- but that's beside the point," said Bill, placidly at first, quite flattered, but then realized the situation and what he'd forgotten at that point, creases appearing in his forehead: he looked just like Green when he was out of his mind with anger. "A few days ago- well, in truth, a _day_ ago in Mirage Island- STOP COMPLICATING ME-" he added, after Yellow looked confused and began to ask a question when Ratty had accidentally knocked a plate on the floor, "- A-anyway, never mind that plate- he'd taken a first at you before he woke you up. Red didn't notice a thing, though- and after you'd spent that fiasco with him against that Vaporeon some of my students had set up for a certain teacher- he interrogated me with questions. Now don't blame him, his father had sent him here in Mirage Island when he was born, attempting to spend his whole lifetime in research of how Mirage Island fuctions-"- Yellow's heart skipped a beat: _what?_ "- and dragged him along, so that's why he despises him so much, leaving his childhood behind him. He's been insanely sharp ever since."

Yellow had felt her heart heave her down to the floor and her urge to eat the remaining whipped cream on her graham on the leche flan- which, unbeknownst to her, was already being cleaned with three tongues, three _pokemon_ tongues- and her stomach's hunger had been sapped away and replaced with pity and understanding. Her gaze turned to face the floor. . . Green had been so pained- leaving everything behind by force. Professor Oak forced him to do it. . .

"Oh, and Red," said Bill unexpectedly, obviously not noticing her think on the chair and clueless about the thoughts running inside her mind, scratching his chin. As soon as Yellow'd heard his name, her head shot right back up and stared at Bill, her mouth agape. Red's got an interesting past as well? "He's not born here either, but everybody else's been keeping that secret from anybody as well."

"TELL ME ABOUT HIM!" Yellow practically shouted- she found herself standing up and knocking over another plate but it was safely caught by one of Omny's outstretched tentacle before Bill had even winced loudly- he did wince, though. Red didn't mention anything about him- how noble, though he didn't know how much of an idiot Yellow thinks he was right now. He didn't tell her _one_ thing about himself- was she not trusted enough _or did it just slip his mind_? Was it so quiet in the room that she already heard her own berathing? She could hear Bill's as well, but hers was louder.

"C-calm down!" said Bill, panic apparent in his voice. He glanced behind his back and noticed someone was knocking the door. Yellow flinched. She took one step back and her eyes moved towards her pokemon on the table. Ratty's eyes had gone wider- Chuchu was glancing at her and glanced back at the balcony- Omny was hiding inside his shell and his teeth weren't bare. Someone must've overheard them talking. . .

"Hide at the balcony!" Bill hissed vehemently- Yellow cringed but followed his orders. She turned to her pokemon and nodded at the balcony. Bill sighed in frustration and seized Yellow's pokeballs from her belt bag and recalled them inside. He tossed her her pokeballs he was holding for her and gestured at the balcony impatiently before sprinting to the door, literally sweating. Yellow unlocked the lock of the balcony hastily before- what was wrong with this island and sliding doors?- and slid it open before closing it and slipping into the balcony, panting, seizing the curtains.

She noticed that her hair elastic was in a sort of knot around her wrist. She was outside- someone might see her-

"Ah, Professor Elm! Wha-what a pleasant surprise!" Bill yelled so loudly that Yellow heard him as she was tying her hair up in a ponytail before helping herself for a bit of-

No, she can't, she doesn't want to eavesdrop, does she? Yellow considered this for a moment, her back leaning against the wall of the balcony- she glanced beside her when she felt a slight tickle in her sleeve: it was a potted plant. She shrugged and continued tying her hair quietly- though she was listening. . . a bit. How often do you get to eavesdrop while hiding? Not too often, to be honest, for Yellow. Smirking slightly in spite that she was turning into a smaller version of Blue, she pressed her ear against the glass of the sliding door of the small balcony, listening in. . .

"I'd come here to discuss to you about Red."

Yellow could've sworn her heart had skipped a million beats. She clutched her clothing to hold on for dear life, it seems, because her heart was trying to escape from its chambers and break free. Biting her lip, she regretted sincerely about eavesdropping- though reluctant on doing it, she pressed her ear closer against the screen glass.

"R-Red, sir?" she heard Bill stutter nervously before she heard a chair being loudly pulled on the mat. Of course it's Red, you dolt. Yellow gulped and felt her knees tremble. Then she heard a thump.

"I'm sorry, sir, my bad, l-lemme just get you c-coffee? Or t-tea?"

Apparently, Bill was making his way over to the refridgerator when he stumbled over something. She heard the so-called Professor Elm sigh in what appeared to be frustration and regret. Yellow furrowed her eyebrows and listened carefully.

"_Red_, Johnson, _Red_!" said Professor Elm exasperatedly. Then his gaze obviously turned to the table when he said rudely, "What's this? Are you having company-"

"NO!" Bill practically yelled incohorently. Yellow edged herself a little to the left frombeing seen in panic. She thought she saw in the corner of her eye Professor Elm glance at her direction. "Of course not!"

Professor Elm was a tall, thin man and had light-brown hair. His eyes were stern-looking and had thin, rectangular-shaped glasses that gavehim the look of a serious scientist. His white labcoat had only reached his knees when he moved across the room, frowning slightly.

She glanced at the glass door apprehensively, attempting to look at the scene without being seen. Professor Elm wasn't giving her any attention at all but was watching Bill- Yellow thought that Johnson was his surname- twitch involuntarily. He gave another sigh and clicked his tongue. Yellow awaited someone to speak, watching their every movement. Bill was giving her sign gestures that must mean that she mustn't move from where she was in a form of twitching.

"What about Red Crimson, Elm?" said Bill, managing to find his placid composure, walking over to the table without looking at the balcony and holding a cup of coffee.

Bill laid the coffee on the table in front of Professor Elm and watched him take a sip from it quietly, not saying a word. He gulped when Professor Elm clicked his tongue again, now opening his eyes to confront Bill with his most serious voice.

"Johnson, he wasn't looking very well when I saw him pass me on his way from his dorm. What gives?" he said, taking another sip. Bill was playing with his fingers quietly before replying. Yellow's back was now leaning against the wall and blinking unconsciously, listening to their every word. Red was upset, why? There must be a reason for that, because he always seemed to be happy whenever she's around- of course, he doesn't really_ know_ she was a she, does he?

"Wha- I beg your pardon?" Bill stammered- it sort of looked as if it slipped out from his mouth before he even thought of an appropriate answer. Struggling to keep his cool, Bill seemed out of options but to stay stupid.

Professor Elm rose from his seat, nearly knocking over the coffee cup and was over a foot taller than Bill was. Bill stood his ground but Yellow saw his knees quiver. "Red Crimson. He was upset over something and he can't concentrate over class- what is it with him? You ought to know, oughtn't you?"

"Y-yes, I would- but I don't exactly understand why he's like this, sir," Bill said, his voice now rising. He stood to his full height and Yellow was surprised that he was actually taller than Professor Elm was. "If you would, Elm."

"I would, Johnson," said Professor Elm dismissively, though Yellow heard a slight reluctance in his stern voice. He turned his heel and left the room without a single word and closed the door behind him.

Bill looked at the door with hatred and plopped down the chair, looking frustrated, creases appearing in his forehead. Yellow seized this oppurtunity to slip into the room- she slid open the balcony screen door and faced Bill.

"What was_ that_ all about?" she demanded, ignoring Bill's feeble looks. She sat on the bed, looking thoughtful and sympathetic and frowned. "What about Red? Was he- why- did something-"

"You," Bill mumbled inaudibly.

"What?" Yellow yelped.

Bill stood up and faced her, sighing. "You! You're the reason he's upset all day! He hasn't heard a single word from you since! He thought you must've left and- _that's_ why he'd cancelled your tour- he thought something must've happened to you that's bad! Don't you see? He's _worried about you_!"

She didn't realize how his words had made a sudden impact on her. It stung like poison and Yellow felt herself go sick.

"It's not like he _wanted_ to- but believe me, he was worried. And Green hadn't given him a _damn _about Red- he literally went in here, Green did, and asked how you were doing!" said Bill, his vocie returning to normal and literally lowering his volume a bit.

Yellow's face turned beet red and didn't manage to say anything but, "Eh?"

"He didn't tell Red _anything_ to keep your secret. . . Red was outraged and he was upset the whole morning. And, as you can see, Elm doesn't know you're here- on this island. The news hadn't spread to him," he added, noticing the expression on Yellow's pale face.

"But- but- how can I tell him where I was earlier?" Yellow stuttered, unable to say anything else.

Bill seemed to think of something deeply at the moment. Then he said, "Tell him that you went swimming."

He stood up unexpectedly and drank the coffee Professor Elm didn't finish, raising an eyebrow at Yellow. He shrugged and strode over the corner and tossed her something- something familiar. . .

"My straw hat!" she exclaimed happily. Bill took another sip then smiled at her.

"Found that as well, it was floating on top of the pond and I wondered how a farmer got there."

Yellow smiled in spite of herself and the both of them heard a knock at the door. Yellow's instincts told her something and she put on her straw hat hastily when Bill walked over to open the door. Yellow peered at the door and saw a familiar face. . .

"Oh, hiya, Bill-"

"_Professor Johnson_, Crimson, or you'll get detention," said Bill winking. The figure in front of him smiled in spite of himself and his fingers ran through his jet-black hair almost automatically.

"I was just wondering whether you'd seen- you know, out of curiosity-" he began, his red eyes fixed upon him- then reverted his gaze on a blonde girl. Yellow thought she had a heart failure when his eyes locked with hers and the three of them stood inside the room in silence.

This was not how Yellow planned on meeting Red.


	13. Red Reunion

**AUTHOR'S NOTE **

**ME:**_** Jolly good morning to all good readers! I know not the approximate date of finishing this story, though not all year, I know it won't take that long. **_

**GOLD: **_**What the-?**_

**YELOW: **_**Old English, isn't it?**_

**ME: **_**It is, yes? Well- I've already've got quite a LOT of chapters going, and I'm considering the idea of this as a SERIES, because no one's gonna want to read a story that's WAY TOO long. I mean, twelve chapters and already 70, 000 words? And this is only my FIRST story, holy fudge. . . I think I'll settle for shorter stories from now on after this one. . . **_

**GOLD: **_**Why're you called Miss Clueless Child, anyway? I think you're more suitable as 'Childish Waffle Glutton' or 'Long Fan Fiction Writer'-**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**SplitHeart1120: Nope- not yet, at least =) SS19 has a point, y'know. The "awkward" thing if Red finds out Yellow was really a girl from a few chapters ago's review O.o Trust ME to think of the awkwardest situations to put characters in. I'm. . . unique like that =) Thanks for the review! Though I'll tell you one thing; he won't be the last to find out like in the manga. (SMIRKS CHEEKILY)**_

**ME: **_**All right! Now that that's done- **_

**GOLD: **_**How about try 'Talkative, Fidgety Kid?'**_

**YELLOW: **_**Nah, doesn't fit her at all. I think 'Vanilla Sweet Heart'-**_

**ME: **_**WE'RE NOT HERE TO DISCUSS NICKNAMES FOR ME! ON WITH THE STORY BEFORE SOMEONE ELSE TALKS! (PANTING)**_

**TWELFTH CHAPTER: RED REUNION**

**S**taring. . . That's what they were doing. Just staring. . . And Bill's jaw was hanging and lifting itself up almost automatically. Yellow's hair was safely tucked within her straw hat just in time before Bill opened the door. She wanted to say something nice to him- but that will only end to saying something stupid.

His hands ran through his bangs nervously and licked his lips, feeling the awkwardness of the moment increase as he did. God, this was awkward. He just wanted to ask Bill- er, Professor Johnson- whether he's seen a certain blonde boy roaming around wearing a straw hat. He blinked several times before opening his mouth- he wanted to talk to her- Yellow, of course, but he doesn't exactly _know_ that- but he can't help thinking that _he_ should speak first. Or Bi- Professor Johnson. Red's neck hesitated to move for a fraction of a second. He wished to glance at Bi- Proffessor Johnson but Yellow's amber eyes were distracting him from doing so. What was wrong with him? Idiot, idiot, idiot, idi-

Yellow shuffled her feet as she tilted her head forward and looked fixedly at her boots nervously. She guessed that Red was here because he was going to ask Bill if he'd seen her anywhere. Well- speaking of anywhere, her eyes were there but upon Red and Bill, she noticed, but they were still stuck on the ground. Ha, that showed her eyes. Wait- why was she doing this again to herself? Never mind, she was going insane, anyway. She wasn't going to take this lying down- but why was she? She forced herself to look into Red's eyes and say nothing- maybe if she waited silently, he'd start talking. . . somehow. He wasn't taciturn like Green was, but this was just so damn awkward. . .

There wasn't anything in the world that she _wouldn't _replace for this. Staring- that's just it. Yellow's eyes broke the tension by moving toward an apprehensive Bill. What the-? It seems as if _he_ was the one in panic. He was just between two people who did nothing but stare at each other's eyes until the other younger one shifted them to him.

. . .

On second thought, he really _did_ seem to have a reason to fidget uncomfortably. Good thing is, Yellow didn't say it out loud and embarrass herself. She was so insecure and vague sometimes. She didn't want to get sucked in those eyes for long, because she'd just end up acting stupid and asking the person to repeat what they said while she drifted off almost on purpose-

Was Red talking? She was sure he was. . .She swore she could've heard Red talking, because his mouth was moving, and he was looking at her. She turned her gaze upon him almost stupidly and said, "Eh?"

Red seemed to have fidgeted as nervously as Bill did. If only he knew that she was feeling the exact same thing. If, that is. He looked like he was about to say something, still fidgeting. Bill, standing beside him, looking uncomfortable, was staring at the door apprehensively every now and then. . .

"_Where have you been?_" Red's tone had suddenly changed from when she'd heard him mutter silently Yellow could hear herself skip a heartbeat. Bill gulped and shied to the door to close it before someone else comes inside and hid himself within the bathroom, closing the door. That cowardly-

"I've told you that there was lasagna in the fridge!" he bellowed, losing it- not noticing the sentence was comical to hear. _Lasagna_. . . Yellow continued to look down the floor, not saying anything, her whole body trembling. She didn't know which was worse: Red angry with her, or she'd just felt her cheeks warm up- she can't be, not now, not when Red's here. . . She heard Red kick a footstool just by the corner like he was ballistic.

"_Qu'est-ce que vous avez fait penser cela, Yellow_? You scared the crap right out of me!" he went on- was that French?- angrily, and Yellow still hadn't looked up, gritting her teeth, daring not to look at the frustration and anger in his eyes. Biting her tongue to keep herself from saying anything rude, she could feel something in her eye bulge and tried to cover it. "I've looked for you _everywhere_! Green- you won't believe me if I told you- he says he doesn't know where you've been but he's been visiting here for _hours_ since our class has dismissed!"

Guilt swelled inside her body and she can't have felt more guilty in her life. He was right: she should have stayed. She shouldn't have left and gotten herself killed just for hunger. But she was already dying of hunger, when she came to stop and think about it. Yet she hadn't left that gate, she continued to move on because she was wasting time. . . She should have returned to the dorm before she'd seen that boulder-wall-thingy.

"And- and- I- I've forgiven you," somebody mumbled out of the blue. If it wasn't for the fact that Yellow saw Red's lips move in her view, she wouldn't have believed it. She felt the tears in her eyes back up a moment- they seemed to have dried up the second Red told her the words and she raised her head, her mouth agape: looking dumb is way better than looking teary, anyway. . . somehow. Red was looking at her with a weird smile, a twistedly sorry one. Not the pathetic "sorry," the "apologetic sorrry." It was like Yellow had been the one who'd yelled at him, judging by their expressions.

Yellow threw him an oddly twisted smile back, her eyebrows almost drawn together. This was really turning into another awkward moment. For one thing; she's smiling back to a stranger- wrong. He seemed to be the only person she knows here aside from Bill, whom she'd just met- two, he was literally _ballistic_ when she'd found him, supposedly _worried_ about her when he'd found out she'd gone from the dorm. It all seemed to a huge joke to Yellow, to be honest- the whole world seemed to either gone mad, or had turned normal ever since the Jurassic period, the day humans actually _understood_ each other. She was on her own now.

"It seems as if from someone else's life, you know," said Red quietly to himself, but Yellow caught those words and was left to ponder what they meant-

There was a sound from the bathroom and Bill clambered out, stumbling, as the door swung open the same time he fell flat on the carpet floor, facedown, groaning loudly. Red and Yellow exchanged angry and confused looks- Yellow, as usual, exchanged the confused and puzzled look whilst Red the angry one- Yellow thought that Red guessed that Bill was eavesdropping their heated conversation. If he'd just wanted to listen, he would've stayed, the coward, and didn't lock himself conscious within the bathroom. Bill stumbled to get up and arranged his necktie apprehensively, gulping.

"Well- I see there's no reason for me to stay," he said, motioning out the door. Red rolled his eyes and he dug his hands in his pockets boyishly when Bill closed the door with a snap. Yellow didn't say anything, she just plopped down Bill's bed and did nothing else, staring at the carpet floor, wearing a grimace.

She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she hadn't noticed Red sit down next to her, his feet apart and his hands in position on top of the middle of them, sighing, then he ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled air that almost gave Yellow the impression that he wanted her to notice him. She disregarded this and continued to ponder silently.

"You know," said Red out of her reverie, but she paid no attention whatsoever, Red noticed, but he went on, "we still have to take you to tour around. . ."

"I'm sorry, Red," said Yellow plainly, on the verge of standing up and leaving, but she stayed put. In the corner of her eye, she saw Red's expression- he looked crestfallen and his well-thought of sentence had stopped into midsentence when Yellow spoke and he was mumbling quietly, then a stinging silence followed. She got up and, still not looking at Red- she didn't want to see the pain in his eyes- she sighed and turned her back on him, not uttering another word and adjusting her belt bag. "But I'm not to stay here for long, remember-"

"Yeah, but don't you _know_ that the only way to get out of here is through waiting until the weather in Hoenn shifts?" said Red, standing up, and in front of him, Yellow saw his shadow on the wall follow Red's movement. Not saying anything still, she carelessly picked up her things on the bedside table and ignored Red. He was right; what she'd seen above Mirage Island with Kitty was more than enough proof- this whole island was banished and she knew it. The only thing aside from Mirage Island was the damn thick fog surrounding it. She felt Red's hand pat her shoulder and swore that the room's temperature had risen. "The least you could do is be familiar with the island."

Yellow considered this for a moment. He was right, but what she wanted to know was _whatever_ the hell she was going to do here for the next two-and-a-half months. Sleep? Too risky. She'd already spent a _month_ doing it, and she won't let herself get caught- even if it's just from herself- doing it again. Maybe meeting new people- mostly of the male population- was good than shunning yourself from civillization or doing nothing for months. For all she knew, it just might serve a purpose: she needed to have someone with her _now_ because Gold and Uncle Wilton won't just meet her here and now. . . Now that she thought of it, how were they doing now? Barty must've told them all about it, he was there, after all. And if they knew, would they do something about it?

After a few moments in silence, Yellow wheeled around and turned to Red, who was looking at her with sincere, earnest eyes. She could just melt, but she controlled the urge to- she wasn't a girl here, she was supposed to be a boy, and boys don't fall for other boys- Wait a single second. Did she just admit- no, _say_- she was actually _falling_ for this Red kid? She wasn't, she won't let herself to. It just isn't right- in fact, she dared to think that it was downright wrong and. . . and just evil. Take advantage of a guy she's just met? That's just evil and more of Blue's type. His hand on her shoulder had been more than enough to let Yellow know he was there. . . Or it could just be her imagination going ballistic again.

"All right, you win," she said, giving in finally, and grinned back at Red, who smiled warmly in return and patted her on the back- she swore she collapsed and got right back up and massaged her back sorely, still smiling- out of pity of herself, though- and crying in the inside. Do boys usually kill each other by patting themselves on the back? Yellow didn't know why, and she wouldn't find out soon, because Red seemed to be the kind to kill her unconsciously in the inside if he keeps treating her like- like she's Green or something.

"Whu-when're we gonna start?" she stuttered, craning her back, making sure- she had to be definitely sure of this- it wasn't broken or anything. The last thing she wanted to get was a check-up from a doctor of her back, which happens to just be behind her. . . She shook these thoughts by thinking of happy ones: at least she was alive from fate's destiny to her. Although it was all her fault she had nearly died several times earlier. . . Had it just been earlier that all those suspense had turned her to think that her life's destiny had been- Yellow nearly winced- death?

Red scratched his chin, thinking. Then his face lit up brightly and he grabbed Yellow by the wrist excitedly, "All right! We could now, though Green'd be pretty upset."

An image of an angry Green crossed her mind like a knife. That won't be a pretty picture at all. "Upset about what?" she said, sitting down the bed, the brim of her straw hat hiding her face as she stared down her feet. A small mathematical equation ran in her mind as soon as Red sat down beside her as well: GREEN + ANGER = KNOCKOUT

That just won't be good at all.

"Well- he was upset about you leaving the dorm more than I had been-"- Yellow'd guessed that he was worried about her outside the school premises because a girl disguised as a boy in what she'd like to call here in Mirage Island the 'mating season' when they abduct a girl was just a few of Green's concerns about her- "- and after we'd argued a bit, he stormed out and mentioned coming- well, coming here."

A sudden vision in Yellow's mind appeared out of the blue and it was constructing a scene in which Green, standing next to Bill, was staring at what seemed to be a figure of herself covered in bed sheets, almost lifeless in form. That was just earlier today? Weird: to Yellow, it almost felt like a few days already. Mirage Island was already at the time when time here slows down- it's the first day of the month and in just a few weeks, time here will eventually speed up whilst today; it slows down. Green had been concerned for her, why was that? Red was, too. . .

"We can go now, if you'd like," Red repeated more confidently, Yellow looked up just in time to see him move his hand behind his neck in reflex that reminded her of herself somehow. . . But she did that whenever she was embarrassed or feeling sheepish or everything of the else; Red can't be feeling the same right now, because he seemed pretty cool and keeping his calm, smiling like that.

"Yeah, all right," said Yellow, still not standing up, and Red's face lit up brightly. He stood up to his full height, sighing in glee, and his shadow grew to its highest peak. Yellow seemed to have still been glued on to the bed- it's been a while since she'd slept on one that was as soft as this. . . That must've been a month and a week ago, the day they got stranded on the island with Sky Pillar. It felt so comfortable. . . she'd missed everything she'd left behind.

"Just get your stuff that Bill hid here for safety and let's get going," said Red in almost a calm voice- he seemed to not hide his excitement from all of this. He stood in front of her so that she might remember that he was still there. Yellow looked up and smiled apologetically- she knew he thought she'd forget about him.

It was as soon as then when she'd realized that Red had already changed clothes that weren't for school: they quite fitted him very neatly, in Yellow's opinion. His T-shirt had looked as if he'd worn it already a couple of times for days but it gave him the ordinary look of a teenage boy. Wearing a jacket that reached his second hip, he looked really sporting, the sleeves of his jacket of the colour of his T-shirt. Though his pants looked as if they were worn- no wise cracks- and had holes in it that were patched up.

"Don't you need new pants?" Yellow asked, raising her eyebrows so high up that they disappeared under her bangs, before she even thought about saying so. It was quite rude- she didn't want him thinking of it the wrong way-

Much to Yellow's utter surprise and astonishment, Red smiled. "Well- I don't have much time, really. And whenever I buy new pairs, I just sort of outgrow it every time."

Yellow chuckled- at least it wasn't a giggle, anyway. Red gave her a wry smile and dug his hands in his pockets, his eyes gazing up at her when she stood up: she was about two-thirds of his height, reaching only his chin but had admittedly more pokeballs attached her waist.

"We'll start with the cafe just around the corner," he said, standing his ground when Yellow left him at the spot to grab her things- her sketch pad, fishing rod and belt bag, anyway, the only possesions she's had ever since she's left the dorm- planning to at least have them around for comfort: she'd never leave without them- before the both of them leave the school. Though she heard him talk, she wasn't really listening: there was this plastic saucer on top of her fishing rod. She tossed it and wiped the coffee dry that was spilled on her fishing rod.

"- so we could just walk round the park, right? Clockwise or counterclockwise doesn't matter, anyway," Red went on, apparently unaware that Yellow wasn't listening. Or he was just wondering out loud, because he seemed to babble on and on about directions of the park. Yellow had just spotted one page of her sketchpad that had been ripped and she hastily snatched it from the floor. It was a drawing of herself: it looked really blotchy now that a part of it's been spilled with what seemed- smelled, more like- to be coffee: the coffee that spilled on her fishing pole must've spilled on her sketch pad as well. Bill must have been one clumsy guy to have spilled it all around.

Now, all she's got to do was find the _rest_ of her sketch pad. It can't have been far. . . ("Do you like ice cream? I think you're the type to, because there's this _great_ ice cream parlor just ahead. . .") She groped around and knelt on the floor just to find it. Where in tarnation was it? Hold on, _tarnation_? She was starting to sound like her Uncle Wilton whenever he tries to find the peanut butter Gold had hidden every day. She's got a load of drawings and doodles all over it. She can't just lose it, she can't. She's already drawn Gold almost perfectly now just a few days ago and she just can't lose it. Not here. . . Oh, here it was. Was that a _footprint_? ("Then there's this awesome joke shop. Several kids go there and prank everyone all round the island," said Red, scratching his chin.) It looked like an imprint of Green's sole.

Her belt bag had everything she needed for surviving. . . She needed to just attach it to her belt and strap it around her waist- it can't be lost. No- it was just there, behind the bathroom door. Good God: it was soaked. She crawled over behind the wooden bathroom door and picked it up and strapped it round her waist almost hastily.

Standing up, Yellow strode over to Red's side ("- and I heard this new-") and said, "Let's go."

Red stuttered then blinked several times. "W-what?"

She'll punish herself later for making it so obvious that her mouth twitched carelessly when she replied almost in a mocking tone which she was sure made Red more embarrassed, "The tour, 'member?"

"Oh," said Red, his tone of puzzlement turning into sheepishness. Yellow couldn't blame him, though. Just a few minutes ago she was absentmindedly listening to Red when in her reality she was actually thinking of his eyes, being so easily sucked into them. . . It was a wonder why he didn't think of her as a girl from the start. But if he keeps going on like this, Yellow swore she'll thank him later. "So where'd you wanna go first?"

The both of them made their way to the door slowly and Red hastily glanced at his watch. Yellow, curious, followed where his eyes landed upon: it was already two o'clock. Red heaved a sigh of either impatience or relief: it was hard to tell, as his lips were sealed shut, though his eyes were blinking more than usual. Yellow wanted to change this silent topic about time as much as she wanted to get out of Bill's room when Red opened the door absentmindedly, still looking at his watch, but only one place was ringing inside her head, for whilst Red was reciting the names of places they should visit, she didn't listen despite the loudness of his voice, "We could go to the cafe! But I don't want to buy anything there, I don't like coffee."

"Oh, yeah, okay," said Red carelessly, looking up from his watch. Taking a huge step in front of the now-ajar door, it didn't close. He and Yellow exited the room and found themselves in another, smaller one: it was circular, much to Yellow's surprise, and it had an office table just in the middle of it- it had the carvings the door in the left side of the Hall had and the cabinet of Red's: what could that mean? It wasn't as if she hasn't seen enough of this. . . She cast her thoughts away of this and thought of this situation: this wasn't the time to ponder of this.

The bookshelves at the corners of the room- what was she_ thinking_, the room's circular- didn't match the shape of it, having been in the shape of a circle. Though the whole room had two bookshelves, their contents appear to be all novels of books that were fiction. Bill seemed to not be the type to read all that, especially fition novels, he seemed to have developed an interest in stuff from outside of Mirage Island. And addiction, more like. She smirked at the thought.

There was a golden chandelier at the ceiling, a very nice touch, because if Bill should be reading, he'd just turn this oversized flashlight on and he could read at ease. Well, more of ease, anyway. He could've just had cushions for his chair, it seemed as if it wasn't healthy to sit on, because it didn't have no more no less than rough, varnished wood.

But nothing more and nothing else occupied in the room. No more no less, this room was _boring_ to look at. It was dull, but the colours here are better to look at than in his bedroom: the wall's wallpaper was pure white; and the additions of golden engravings all over the room was- there was no other word to describe it- _cool_.

Yellow strode around the room interestedly when she heard someone speak, "Are you done yet? Because tell me if it's next year already."

She turned round and nearly yelped when she realized that Red was still there- God, had she forgotten?- and tried to hide- unsuccessfully, to be honest- by trying to snap at him or something but walked backwards so much that she literally fell behind a footstool and knocked off her feet.

Painful. . . But no serious injury. The only thing that was left of her was the little grain of dignity she had in store. Her feet were tangled up in the footstool and she was sitting on the floor on her back, using her hands to keep herself up, facing up, pouting at Red's face- what a pathetic situation to land herself in. . . again. Her minor injuries include dignity loss; a broken heart; and a less serious case called high blood pressure. . . But of course, the all-famous hallucinating injuries. Yellow scowled and tried to stand up herself when Red extended a hand to help her up, still laughing- she didn't need someone to crack up again because she fell down- shaking it away.

"I don't need help from filthy guys like you," she spat angrily, carelessly, patting the dirt on her pants. But Red was still laughing, gesturing her to the door out, she followed, rolling her eyes.

"Filthy, you call me? Who was the one that fell down?" said Red, still hiding his glee. Yellow can't help but smile despite of herself as they exited the room.

Red pulled out the key from his pocket hurriedly when they reached the Access- or the Gateway, whichever- and Yellow curiously looked behind his shoulder, interestedly staring at the key he was using to open the Access- or Gateway. It was the colour of viridian and it had engravings all round it.

"So it's still early- we'd wrap it all up round five o'clock if that's all right with you," Red added, seeing Yellow's eyes flicker, unlocking the Gateway- or the Access- with a smirk forming his lips.

"Everything had to be in schedule?" asked Yellow, smiling in spite of herself, following Red out of the school grounds, closing the Access- or the Gateway- behind her, stepping aside to let Red lock it again. She looked around: the whole town of Mirage Island alone was bigger than the island she, Gold and Uncle Wilton had been stranded on. It looked quite quaint, but other than that, it seemed to be as normal as Viridian. She allowed the smell of the town enter her nose and thought she detected the slightest scent of pancakes. . . vanilla. . . and a trace of cinammon. . .

The small road that seperated the small hotels of the town and the school was wider than Yellow had expected they'd be. She hadn't been inside that long, had she?

She felt Red's hand pat her shoulder and heard him say confidently, "First stop, the Cafe!"

Red took one step on the road and a child walked by with a couple of older brothers, no older than Yellow, still wearing their uniforms, staring at them both weirdly- Yellow wanted to glare at the lot of them so much, but bit her tongue to keep from doing it. They must be staring at her because she'd been mistaken for a girl. She sensed Red struggling with himself beside her. She looked up and saw Red panting, his red eyes now slits, glaring at the boy. She glanced in front of them and faced the same young boy sticking his tongue out at the both of them mockingly, his brothers not even knowing this was happening from behind them. Red reacted out of reason and made a move to the boy when Yellow thrust her hand instinctively in front of Red.

"Don't mind him," she muttered in his ear, watching the kid pulling his ears with his fingers and his thumbs trying to pull his nostrils up. "That kid's not worth it."

For a fraction of a second, she'd thought Red was about to thrust her away- she tightened her grip on his shoulder- but he kept his cool and sighed heavily. Yellow, whose height only reached his chin, had been fortunate she was short. Being short had its privileges: she heard his breathing slow down. He looked down at Yellow, still panting slightly, but otherwise fine.

"Sorry," he said, betraying a hint of impatience for the first time. Yellow, sheepish, let go of his arm, silently cursing herself, not saying anything else. He cleared his throat loudly and proceeded with the tour as if nothing had happened, "To the school's left is just the Cafe, so- so let's get going, then?"

"Yeah," said Yellow carelessly, but a chilling thought ran inside her mind: had Red bore his teeth when the child stuck his tongue at her? They walked down the street, not saying anything after that incident. She didn't pay attention to anything around her while they walked. She just might have been. . . exaggerating, that's all.

His almond-shaped red eyes had been slits, too. . . Every time he was angry, he'd always grit his teeth, Yellow noticed all the time, and his once-perfect crimson eyes split and turn, with a flash of yellow, into slits. Another thing she's noticed was that whenever Green had been angry, his emerald-green eyes seperate from each other and turn turqoise blue.

If Red's teeth were baring themselves, what about Green's? But when she thought about it a lot, Red was very energetic and talkative while Green was motionless and quiet. Could that be it? She'd recalled something. . . Green had been clenching his fists whenever he'd been angry, and she's seen his nails digging themselves deep into his palm; can that be the contrary of what happens when Red was mad?

What was going on?

Red suddenly gestured Yellow into a small pub, nodding his head inside. There wasn't a door, but there was a native mat that had been decorated with a sillhouette of a small, cute-looking pokemon. He followed her inside the Cafe without uttering another word.

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: **_**HOLY FUDGE! I've finished it! Oh, and guess what? I'd found out which story summary I'd read that gave me inspiration to make this story! WHOOOOOOO! It was called, 'The Knife of Never Letting Go'. And I'd made this with a twist of 'She's the Man'. **_

**GOLD: **_**HANG ON! I've READ that story!**_

**YELLOW: **_**You read? O.o**_

**GOLD: **_**Yeah, what's it matter to you, huh? HUH? Anyway, this kid was in a world somewhere where there are no GIRLS! And the guys that live there could read MINDS!**_

**ME: **_**Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ignore that for a while. No spoilers, please! Review if you must, flame if you want, but don't say vulgar! What the- I've noticed that I'd written this story with chapters ending in a kind of CLIFF HANGER without noticing it! O_,O Thanks for reading, here, take a COOKIE! Thanks for reviewing, here, take a slice of CAKE! Thanks for flaming, here, take a SANDWICH! Thanks for flaming with no vulgar by being honest, here, take a COUPON FOR ICE CREAM! **_

**ME: **_**Oh, yay. Great Aunt Aben's going to visit. I'll bring ear muffs and a cookie and a glass of milk just in case.**_

**GOLD: **_**You've got a GREAT AUNT? o,O**_

**ME: **_**Meh, I like her, anyway.**_

**GOLD: **_**With all the cheek pinches, the kisses, the "don't wear that thing, no wonder some children your age are already pregnant!" line, the "sit up straight, or you'll never get married" or even "would you place my retainer on the glass"?**_

**ME: **_**What? That's supposed to be NORMAL? Does that mean that my Auntie Aben's weird? Oh, and anyway, I don't even know her much yet ^/./^**_

**GOLD: **_**(SLAPS FACE) -_o**_


	14. The truth about Red and Green

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Hiya! Nice to see you guys again! Thanks for reading my last chapter, anyway! =) What the- I don't even know what I'm saying anyway. . . o.O All righty then, what am I to say right now. . . ? (SCRATCHES HEAD) =/ Well, on with the story? **_

**GOLD: **_**That's it?**_

**ME: **_**I don't know what else to say right now. . . Frazzled (SHRUGS) I =**_

**YELLOW: **_**And I don't blame you. (SHRUGS) It's nine in the night, just a few minutes after you'd passed the last chapter, really. **_

**GOLD: **_**I'm awake till one in the morning (SMIRKS) =)**_

**ME: **_**No wonder you you wake up till ten in the morning! Anyway, I don't think that this story should be in Hiatus-**_

**YELLOW: **_**YOU'RE CANCELLING THE STORY? O,0**_

**ME: **_**HECK NO! I'm just saying that productions of this story's going to be faster than usual, that's all! **_

**GOLD: **_**Oosh, overreacting much. . . -,- ANYWAY, how long is this story supposed to be? O.o**_

**ME: **_**A couple more chapters or so. . . (TWIDDLING FINGERS REPROACHFULLY) =/**_**I**

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**SplitHeart1120: I'm not lying to you when I'll say this; everything I'd described of Red throughout the whole story is what he really is thinking. No secrets, guys. (HOLDS HANDS UP) None at all. Oh, and thanks for reviewing =D Here, have a slice of cake ^_* You know you want it. If you won't eat it in five seconds, I will.**_

**ME: **_**Oh, and this chapter has the SPECIALSHIPPING all you've guys have waited for! But. . . mentions alchoholic beverages. So beware: I've warned you guys once! I won't again!**_

**THIRTEENTH CHAPTER: THE TRUTH ABOUT RED AND GREEN; TOUR ROUND MIRAGE ISLAND**

**Y**ellow entered inside the Cafe without saying anything, not even looking up at Red, who was right behind her. If there was something he wasn't telling, then it would be up to her to find out. If there was something he _wasn't_ wasn't telling, then she'll just have to ask him about it, nothing wrong with that. But if he _was_ hiding something, she'll just have to use her detective skills yet again to crack this mystery. Well, at least she's found something else to do than nothing for the next few months here. . .

The whole interior of the Cafe was quaint; it was of the colour of mocha, and they obviously don't only serve coffee here, she reckoned. The tables were wooden and were almost taller than half of her full height, each of them already had chairs attached to them, nails very visible so that it maybe obvious to the observer that it seemed to be foldable: all of it. Carefully varnished they were, but they seemed to have been carelessly sawn, so that its corners were curvy a little, and- despite the unmistakable waft of coffee that could be smelled even from the entrance- it still smelled of dried varnish.

There was a counter in front of all this, and the keeper was wiping it, staring at the both of them with a look of cocky ignorance. His bloodshot, black eyes were locked on the both of them and didn't seem to be glancing away soon, and the keeper appeared to have overworked them far too much, Yellow thought, and gulped nervously, her fingers twitching involuntarily. The keeper's tan skin was peering out of his thick layer of clothes underneath his Cafe keeper uniform, and his hair arms were flailing back and forth the counter absentmindedly. Black hair was already seen beneath his toque even as his attention was on them all the time, indicating that he was a very messy man: Yellow knew at once she disliked this man from the very start. His hand, loosely holding a piece of worn-out garment almost unconscious that he was cleaning his counter, was sliding against the top of the counter, and Yellow assumed that he ought to have been working, but his gaze seemed to have diverted to- she was partly wrong and mostly right- _her_, not the both of them, she realized too late. Her eyes widened and, for a split of a second, she'd forgotten that she was disguised as a boy, didn't move in reflex, flinching.

Her nerves had seemed to be running slow and her blood froze with the cool air that had suddenly wafted inside her body the minute the keeper's eyes landed on her. Trying to distract herself from him, she looked down to avoid him; that's what she'll do, avoid him- she noticed that the floor was still wet with water. She lifted her boots and her soles were soaked: she sat down the nearest chair and was careful to both avoid the keeper's weird, disturbing gaze and the wet floor.

"Hey, I'm just gonna order- what do you like?" asked Red- Yellow had, predictably, forgotten about him momentarily of unclear thought- standing in front of her, hoping to get her full and undivided attention, his left hand rocking itself, hitting his hip every now and then, and his right hand had- nearly expectantly- run through his black hair again under his sporting red hat.

But she wasn't really hungry, anyway, and she was anxious about the keeper; she saw, in the corner of her eye, though she reluctantly saw and quickly reverted her eyes to Red's sheepish face, the Cafe keeper now smiling goofily to himself- once or twice Yellow thought that same minute that a single strand of her hair was out of place- and turning his heel to check the overcooked waffles in the oven that had just rang.

"I'm not really hungry- nor thirsty," she added hastily, seeing Red's mouth curl a little. The incident that had just occurred not very long ago was still bidden in Yellow's mind and she didn't think that she'll forget it soon. Meanwhile Red's still clueless that she was thinking that, which was either fortunate or just serendipity that followed her everywhere, every time, and for the fact that he still doesn't have a clue that she's a girl- she'll just have to be sure about this: it was either that she was very good at hiding her secret, or that Red was too much of an idiot to notice.

Red's lips curled into a slight, bracing smile- Yellow swore she melted at the spot- and pulled his left hand from his pocket and gestured both of his hands at the counter- Yellow raised her eyebrows, "You should at least know the Cafe keeper."

_Holy sh- snap, she meant snap._

Yellow stood up from the bench and gestured helplessly at herself in a state of utter panic by flailing her arms, ignoring Red's confused look. As she stood, she knocked down a chair that was just beside hers and disregarded that as well, "N-no, that- that won't be much of a neccesity- what I meant to say was-"

She lowered her voice into a whisper, knowing full well that the keeper had been listening and tried not to make it look too suspicious by pulling Red down into a seat by the collar and whispering something in his ear, her eyes avoiding the keeper's, "_Hell no! You should- just- just- JUST LOOK AT HIM_."

She let go of Red's collar as he raised his head up and turned his gaze toward the Cafe keeper- Yellow still wasn't looking and pretended to be busy looking at the entrance of the shop. The Cafe keeper, Red saw, not Yellow, was looking at the both of them- that's what Red thinks, but Yellow was sure he was staring at her, but if he _had_ been staring at the both of them, then it must be because of the way they were acting- with astonished eyes, his mouth gaping, and his yellow teeth showing. Yellow blinked several times before Red turned back to her and hissed at him, "I don't think that he likes us much as well."

"Yellow, you're going _mental_- he's fine, but I'm not sure _you_ are," Red hissed back, apparently too ignorant to see that the Cafe keeper was now glaring at them. Yellow glanced hastily back at Red, her spine being run down by a cold chill. They really need to get out of this place- even if it was just her paranoid imagination, or she was right- they really ought to get out. Yellow was sure that the Cafe keeper knew just what she was: it was a scary possibility. . .

"Fine- fine, if that's what you think-" she began, but Red cut her off, seeing her stand up forcefully and pulled her back down, and the chair that had been toppled over by Yellow not long ago had been hit yet again and had hit the wall, yet again earning a great amount of attention by the keeper- she swore that were there any customers other than the both of them, they'd immediately leave the shop.

"No, don't even think about that for one damn minute," said Red- and everything seemed to have gone on replay: his eyes glinted and there was a white flash before his eyes changed into a burning, ruby colour, and they warped into slits, giving him the impression of a mad Tauros gone lose, and he was baring his pure-white teeth: Yellow swore she thought she saw that his canine had enlarged and sharpened- he looked no less of a vampire himself. "Fine- all right, let's leave this place- but I'll just let you stay behind a while-"

"I'm not staying behind!" she half-whispered, half-screeched, outraged, finding herself up on her feet, looking down at Red with nothing less than anger. Red glared at her with an expression worthy of Chris whenever Gold was messing around: this was one of the times that she's seen him so serious, and she sat back down again, still a bit snappy, but lowered her volume down a bit, though reluctant on staying behind the Cafe. She mumbled, her hands on her lap, settling down the bench sheepishly, attempting to avoid both the keeper's and Red's eyes, "All right. But what are you gonna do?"

It seemed very suspicious that Red instructed Yellow to stay behind in a Cafe that he _knew_ she despised being inside- if he'd been so willing to leave, why had he just escorted her in the first place? Was it some kind of meeting at the time? He was so conscious about the time earlier, so that must be it. . . But what if it was something else? Red shook his head wearily, and muttered darkly, his gaze following the street outside, clicking his tongue. Yellow furrowed her eyebrows so that most of it disappeared under her hair perplexedly.

"I've just seen Green walking by the street outside," Red mumbled reluctantly, and Yellow was sure that his unwillingness to speak made her to think that he regretted having the ability to speak. She followed his gaze and squinted her eyes: she didn't see Green anywhere-

Red rolled his eyes and yanked Yellow's head by the hat and she collapsed on the floor, crouching down on all fours, but her eyes were still locked on the street: the angle was completely different, and Red was right- at the other end of the street had been Green; he was walking downtown, his head bowing, and his left hand deep in his pocket, perhaps not even realizing that he was walking: he was so absorbed in the book he was holding up to eye-length that he seemed to have payed attention to everything else. And as he did, his auburn hair was flying at the wind's mercy and he didn't even bothered with it like Red did.

Yellow adjusted her straw hat, wearing a strained smile on her face, but her eyes were still upon him: what had he been doing while she'd awoken? Her spine began to twitch involuntarily as a cold chill crept down it: someone had entered the Cafe shop and blocked the view. The man that entered seemed to be bustling, and his glasses, slightly askew, were being jerked away by his hand, which was wiping his sweaty forehead, its twin right holding a briefcase that had papers squeezed by its lock. His uniform had been slightly a shade of brown darker than the humid of the quaint shop and had a long, red necktie that had reached his second hip, and his shaggy, new-looking pants were ironed neatly at the front, but at the back, Yellow had seen, it was burnt, and a hole was visible right below his left knee. The busy-looking man made his way to the keeper and Yellow noticed that he was no taller than she was when she stood up to her full height to let him through.

"Busy day at the office, Richard," said the man, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief, plopping down clumsily on his seat and hiding his head within his arms as he crossed it on the top of the counter. "Rumors have said that the mayor, Oak, had the kid that had been mistaken for a girl stay at his student's dorm for the time being."

Red rolled his eyes and mumbled something Yellow didn't understand what she heard and, standing up, pulling up his sling bag to put it into place, he gestured Yellow to get up and leave. She stayed on the spot. It wasn't like she'd _wanted_ to stay- on the contrary, she really, really, really was reluctant to- but she was interested in the conversation the keeper and the businessman were having. She raised her eyebrows, biting her lip, and her eyes were gesturing to the both of them.

His eyes widened for a moment, then he mouthed at her, "_Are you serious_?" Of course she was, the idiot. Had she ever lied to him? Yellow considered that question for a second- come to think of it; she always had the whole time.

She nodded. Red looked confused at first then he whispered, an expression of disbelief on his face, "_I thought you hate coffee_."

It was official: Red. Was. The. Most. Idiotic. Prat. Ever. Hadn't she just gestured at the both of the men that were gossiping right now? The damn idiot doesn't even know what she gestured for. She sighed in frustration and stood up on titptoe, whispering in his ear, "I want to find out what they're talking about. . ."

Red immediately spluttered uncontrollably in her ear, which she retreated instantly, his lips literally quivering in embarassment. Yellow's thoughts were that this was a very childish way to show sheepishness; but otherwise it was kind of cute. She shook her head from thinking these thoughts: this was so wrong. . .

Yellow shook his head in a matter Red thought of wearily. He gulped and ran his fingers through his hair nervously, scratching his scalp violently, and his bangs flew in the breeze that swept by inside by the entrance. He thought for a fraction of a second, he'd seen Yellow glance up and stare down at his feet again- blushing humid pink. But. . . he can't be. Red didn't say anything, did he? And neither did he. Anyway- he wasn't gay and neither was Yellow: especially Yellow. He's had a girlfriend, hasn't he? Then again, in Red's opinion, Yellow hadn't been the type to be- nah, it would've been Yellow's girlfriend that did all the action, come to think of it. He didn't know how wrong he just was.

Yellow bit her lower lip nervously and glanced up- Red had been running his fingers through his hair: he always did whenever he gets nervous: something she'd always found. . . charming of him. Hold on a freaking minute- she glanced down again, shuffling her feet as nervously as Red when he ran his fingers through his hair- _how long had she noticed that_? If this was legal, then it shouldn't be. She stood on her tiptoes again, already remembering the reason why she'd thought of him as an idiot in the first place, whispering something in Red's ear, "You go and get Green- we'll just go tour around the place together- while you do that, I'll take a cup of latte- or something- and eavesdrop, goddit?"

Red furrowed his eyebrows and nodded, his lips drooping to his jaw and formed a sort of thin, oblong shape. He stood to his full height and nodded the second time, then, turning his back in front of her, and leaving the place, raising the curtain (the door replacement, you know, the mat at the doorless entrance). As she watched him leave, Yellow raised the collar of her turtle neck and adjusted her straw hat.

She turned her heel and made her way to the counter seats, her hands deep in her pockets, frowning slightly. Taking a seat down the farthest of the pair- the keeper and the businessman- to keep from being suspicious. She made a finger gesture- her middle and index fingers both yanking themselves down- and the keeper finally took notice of her, his hairy arm sliding against the top of the counter he'd just swiped, holding a glass cup, turning his gaze to her- surprisingly, she didn't wince.

"Wine, plea- I mean, just wine," she said in a deep voice when she realized that she was too polite (the keeper had also raised his thick eyebrows at the point)- and also realized what she had mistakenly ordered, but it was too late.

He narrowed his eyes and raised his lower lip forcefully while standing up from his bending position: she hastily lowered the brim of her hat and flattened down her bangs. The longer the time stretches, the more uncomfortable she got: she slowly tugged the collar of her turtle neck and cleared her throat.

"Awrigh'- that musta clea'd yer sineses," he muttered, then turned his back on her and Yellow heard the distinct sound of wine being poured down a cup, then unmistakably someone spitting- she straightened herself in her seat as the thought of drinking _wine_ that had _spit_ of the _keeper_ in it: she'll just not drink it just to be sure and didn't move her eyes to the businessman beside her, whose gaze was upon her. More uncomfortable than this, the keeper had slid the cup of it across the counter in front of her and it was of the colour maroon-violet: she was so certain that this was enough to get her drunk.

"Whu?" the keeper demanded as Yellow looked up just in time to see him, hands on his hips, glaring at her after- Yellow was lucky that she didn't see _that_- she heard someone spit whom she was so sure to be him. She glanced quickly down at her glass cup then back at the keeper.

"What d'you mean, what?" she said in a state of panic she'd carefully hidden from him: her voice was trembling, but she stood her ground and didn't show him her uneasiness. The keeper narrowed his eyes at her and extended an open palm.

"Ain't ya gonna pay me u'?" he said, only inches from her face as he did, and Yellow could smell what must have been rugby or something. She sat up straight to avoid the horrible scent and bit the back of her lower lip to keep herself from saying anything reckless.

"And how much will that be?" she muttered, bending down- not too low, because the scent was too overwhelming- to search for something inside her belt bag. She heard him- yes, you read that right, _heard_- retreat his back in front of the counter and mutter something darkly: well, at least he doesn't think of her as a girl right now.

She dropped five dollars on the table and the keeper scooped it up hastily- if not greedily, the businessman just five seats away was beginning to become impatient: they seem to have been under a very important discussion when Yellow attracted the keeper's attention. Pretending to sip from the glass cup- she was grudgingly doing so out of clear suspicion that he _did_ spit in that- when in actual fact she was forcing her lips to keep themselves shut, but her ears weren't of the discussion the keeper and the businessman were having; apparently, they didn't think that Yellow was the one Bill brought here.

"What'd the kid look like?" the keeper, Richard, a name that Yellow forgot and just remembered, muttered out of the corner of his mouth- but Yellow can hear them anyway. The businessman glanced reproachfully at Yellow, then at the keeper, then he lowered his voice, pulling Richard's ear carefully when he'd seen Yellow feigning to have taken a sip from the glass cup.

"I don't know," he murmured quietly, more to himself than to Richard. He doesn't know. . . The rumour's must've not told him how she looked like, which was a good thing. "But word has it that the student that's been rumoured to have been rooming with him. . . is that Crimson kid."

She nearly swallowed the wine that entered her mouth when she nearly spluttered- if she did swallow the wine, she could've choked and have given away her position. She heard Richard splutter noisily in rage and contempt- Red. . . he's done something she didn't know? Here?

"_Tha' Crims'n bloke_? Wouldn't have believe' it'f I did!" he bellowed, pulling his toque off his head aggressively and stomping it flat on the floor. Yellow wasn't sure how this had made an impact to the both of them: Red seemed not to be the type to cause trouble- on the contrary, he seemed to help others get out of it. She pretended to take another sip of wine as she listened carefully: this was something about the same person who'd went out just to find Green. . . What had Red done that was so terrible?

"Yeah," said the businessman, retreating from his position to look at Yellow- she tilted her head to the left in relfex and tried to pretend to not notice- and fell silent the instant: it was as if he knew that she was listening. She settled herself in her seat and put down her glass cup, heaving a feign sigh. At the corner of her eye, she saw him gesture Richard down to his eye-length and covered his ear with his hands: it was unbelievable that she could still hear them: it must have been her extraordinary ability to read pokemon's mind, "That Crimson kid's been one of the top dangerous students list ever since he'd come to the island along with Oak's own grandson!"

This time, Yellow literally did splutter- loudly. But she didn't care, and, more fortunately, Richard the keeper and the businessman didn't, either, they were luckily too engrossed- and so was Yellow- in their own conversation that they didn't take notice on Yellow. D-dangerous? _Red_? That's just absurd, nonsense, unbelievable- danger of Green's, yes, but _Red_? As Yellow found that very hard to believe- the ludicrous discussion- she'd thought that it would have been best if she didn't listen to them anymore, because the deeper the discussion about herself, Red and Green became, the more she sees the two as very bad persons- one word that describes someone that Yellow detested about someone's attitude the most: hypocrites.

It might have been the wine she accidentally drank by choking it throughout their discussion, but she was certain that it wasn't her tipsy thinking that got her to think that the both of them were completely idiotic. How thick could they _get_? Rumours are rumours, and they've even engaged this discussion to talk about it: that was just _low_. As reluctant as Yellow'd wanted to continue listening to the two: she _must_. If there was one thing she'd want to find out about other than the "pokemon that makes time in Mirage Island stable," it would be about both of Red and Green: they are hiding something from everyone and she'd like to find out what and why.

"Tha' goddam' Crims'n _git_. . . He'd come ta M'rage 'Land just to cause fights because o' 'is 'ell of an 'uge temper," Richard grumbled darkly- the contempt in his voice made Yellow's blood boil and was surprised that she still hadn't done anything about it: they were insulting Red, she had to do something, she was his friend. . . And a chilling thought ran inside her mind which she had regretted to have crossed: some friend_ she _was. Biting her lip, she silently cursed herself as she lifted the glass cup to her lips again, which were closed shut, she didn't forget, and put it down again, mentally- not the crazy, mad kind of mental- counting to ten to keep herself calm.

"An' tha' Oak kid. . ." Something inside Yellow's stomach erupted to life and had been dowsing around and hot liquid had splashed in her insides like lava as Richard went on unconscious that he was so ruthless to Yellow. That bastard was nothing to be concerned about. . . He isn't worth spilling her secret out. She took a deep breath and continued to eavesdrop quietly. " 'Aven't seen 'im anywhere n'mal, that's what. Always somewhere aroun' tha 'land. You'd've tho' tha 'e was doin' something b'ind Oak's back!"

Yellow felt herself slip from her seat a little and felt cold inside for a split of a second, then after another second, she felt that same cold, icy feeling inside her veins. When she slipped, she thought she drank a mouthful of wine, and an explosion of thoughts ran inside her mind all at once- it might have been of how tipsy she'd been, but there was an actual thought that crossed inside it: it was ironic how both Red and Green had been keeping something from her when she'd been keeping something from _them_- that was the wine talking, perhaps- where was Green going when he'd had time? That must be very peculiar. . . Red as well: he's had his tempers: for one thing, Yellow knows that that's not because he was hungry- that was definitely the wine talking.

". . . Keep your damn voice down!" whispered the businessman- Yellow used all her power to muster just to think clearly that he'd thought she'd slipped from the seat in sheer surprise: he was partly right. And part of her was saying that the businessman was a very mean person: he'd said a nasty word. She shook her head from these tipsy thoughts and put down her glass cup on the counter near the plastic mug that Richard had put on the table out of rage: she was drunk, she knew it, she can't be staying here for long. . .

She was about to stand up when she heard the businessman mumble something back to Richard, making her decision final: she's got to stay a little bit longer, "I've heard that that Oak kid's been going to the forest: and that's not just saying something, because he's not training there. If he'd been, we'd hear the sound of trees being crashed down the forest floor from here; but we still haven't, so training there must be nothing of his reasons about going there. And whenever he's angry, I see his eyes flicker from a delicate, beautiful shade of emerald-green. . . into an icy, cold colour of pale blue, and a darker shade of it in the middle."

That. . . had been true. Yellow gulped and adjusted her straw hat silently, feeling that the both of them were ignoring her now, because they weren't talking much in a lower volume because their discussion had grown more serious the deeper their topic had been. And Red's had glowed and shone and after a split of a second, it's suddenly cold and dark: they had been split into slits and his gorgeous pair of crimson-scarlet eyes had turned into an almost evil shade of red when angry.

She was just about to hear the rest of their discussion, hearing the businessman's breath exhale for a second, when someone from the entrance had entered and disturbed them, a bell ringing at where the door had been supposed to be. Yellow wheeled around the seat and found both Red and Green- speak of the goddamn devil. Had they just been talking about them?- that. . . was the wine talking- looking at the three of them inside the quaint place with an expression that she was certain to have read, _'What the hell's happened here?'_

She got up immediately, giving the both of them a fleeting, angry look, and stormed out of the room without saying anything. Too mad to say anything to explain to them- and too tipsy to say anything at all- she decided it would be best if they, too, didn't know that she knew. It would just make them suspicious about her and more if they'd known she'd known.

_Step, step, step, step, step, step, step, step- sway- step, step, step- Oh, look! Pretty Butterfree- hit wall accidentally out of thinking about that keeper- Ronald, was it?- angrily- never hit wall again, mental note. Step, step, step, step, step: hearing voices outside. . . Supposed to be angry with Revers. . . Who's Revers? Oh, that keeper. . . Maybe I could've mispelled it. Step, step- Aaaah, hit wall again, never do that again- hurts so much, can't feel finners. Oh, I mean, fingers. Stupid wall. Who put it there, anyway? Certainly not me- whoever did must be really- hit wall again. Really hurts so much. . . Very painful. Get outside quickly before hit anything again. . ._

When Yellow reached the entrance, she lifted the corners of the curtains and found herself looking at a street full of busy people: it seemed to be rush hour.

Just as usual, Red caught up with her first and patted her on the shoulder to get her attention. She reluctantly turned around, facing Red, feigning a look of- of what she usually looked, really, it wasn't much- and the look on Red's face had been priceless: he looked both dumbfounded and surprised, and his mouth had been hanging comically.

"Yell-Yellow, you- are you all- what the _hell _happened back there?" he said, his eyes widening, and his expression still hadn't softened from what he'd gathered just by looking at her face: she'd been wearing that goofy smile since they'd exited the Cafe Shop. Was she- had she drunk the wine they'd served there? He thought that she'd been listening in to their discussion: maybe she'd accidentally drunk it while listening? That. . . would be _very_ much of Yellow. Clumsy idiot, he really did drink it, Red realized too late, because Yellow was swinging herself back and forth.

She felt angry at the keeper, that two-faced. . . Had he known that Red wanted to introduce her to him he wouldn't have said all those things. But in Yellow's opinion, he just might've been as hypocritic as she'd thought he'd been. But she needn't be mad at Red, he's the reason she was mad at Richard for; maybe she just needed to spill all her anger out at someone: just not Red. She wanted to yell at him what exactly happened inside there, how that idiot of a _homo sapien_- hell, he'd even be more suited as a devil- talked about him behind his back, but her mouth said otherwise.

"Whezzeen?" the drunk person inside her said, and all her willingness to talk about it had been replaced by another urge: shutting herself up. Drunk, feeling sleep-deprived, wet with wine- had she always been wet every time Red finds her?- and swaying back and forth, squinting her eyes and putting her hand over her forehead to shade her vision to see if Green was nearby, even if her mind- and heart, meaning that this was definitely the wine's doing- had told her not to, and she forced herself not to: but she did.

Another figure lifted up the curtains that seperated the Cafe Entrance to outside with spiky auburn hair that stood on end and emerald-green eyes, whose expression upon seeing the both of them- Red and Yellow- had widened in both surprise and confusion. The curtain behind him fluttered close and had swept by the breeze as an uncomfortable silence loomed upon the threesome.

"What the- you've drunk the wine there, haven't you?" said Green; and everything was on replay- his eyes had flickered and had turned into an icy-cold colour that, upon seeing them, will freeze anyone- anyone who hadn't been drunk, that is. No matter how deep Yellow sunk herself into his eyes, she felt nothing but puzzlement and interest: she was definitely drunk, but her thoughts were somehow agreeing with what both Red and Green were thinking.

"We could-"- she gave a hearty hiccup- "still continue with-"- another one- "the tour," she said, swaying a bit. _No, we couldn't, so stay put, you drunk_. They could still continue, of course, what had she been thinking? But then again, she'd cause much more trouble, that's a statement. Though the only thing Red and Green would be doing was to keep her sober until she's tired enough to sleep off her drunk state.

Red and Green exchanged uneasy looks. Red had been worried because she might get into trouble; Green was concerned of how she behaves while they tour her around- who knows, she just might accidentally blow her straw hat off and sway it around just because she's seen some Butterfree or something. . . or worse. He shook his head from these thoughts and turned to Yellow, his hands on his hips, trying to pull a straight face.

"Yellow, you can't _possibly_ think that-"

"I think he's right, Green," Red piped up so suddenly that Yellow had thought it might have been a young boy who'd spoken. In Yellow's outside, she celebrated, smiling with apparent glee and wearing a smug look on her face; in the inside, she thought differently- Red can't have drunk any wine as well, can he? She looked at Red- trying to pull on a face that was _meant_ to look like she wasn't believing him- but the wine took control and smiled approvingly. Green- he'd faced Red with the exact same look that Yellow pictured she wanted to look; her sane mind- the opposite of her drunk one, and was the only sane one that still works in her body- and Green's own had been thinking the same thing: Red was mental.

"How could sh- he be right?" Green demanded- was it her, her truly sane self that heard it really, or was it just the wine that imagined it? Green. . . She thought for a split of a second she heard him hesitate to indicate her as a "_he_." Red must've not heard it, for he was flexing his arms behind his neck that forcefully reminded Yellow of Gold: an older, much more attractive one. . .

She slapped herself.

"HEY! Quit doing that!" Red exclaimed, and he stopped her from slapping herself again by grabbing her by the wrist- she could've died of heart attack: he was just inches- no, barely an _inch_- from her face, and he didn't notice that, in her reality, the silence that loomed over them went on for what seemed to be a century. He let go of her wrist and retreated his steps, then looked at Green, who'd had his hands dug deep within his pockets.

"So- what're we gonna do with him while we tour?" asked Green, already a fair few steps ahead of them both, his tone as dismissing as ever. Yellow didn't understand why she felt very upset when Red's hand had let go of hers. She rubbed it vaguely and followed after Red, who'd followed Green, who was on the lead.

There was a number of ways to do with her whilst the tour was on, and sobering her was just one thing; another was keeping her away from things she shouldn't touch- hold, break and the like- and telling her to remember the important bits whilst still drunk: she could very well forget all this when she wakes up after sleeping soon, which Yellow felt really guilty about. After all, it was her fault.

"Let's go to the ampitheathre!" Red suggested, keeping up with Green and making sure that Yellow was still behind him, glancing behind his shoulder to find her walking almost normally- if not almost clumsily- though with not much difference; her head was lolling left to right, not violently, so people won't notice her much; she was still smiling, but not as goofy as before- more like a friendly, curious smile that makes others understand that they trust them, and Red felt more than flattered to that.

He stopped walking and let Yellow lead him while following Green- who hadn't noticed a thing- around. For a second, she didn't realize why he'd stopped; she did too, and looked at him with both surprise and interest, her eyebrows disappearing under her bangs. Red gestured- lamely- he was starting to think that people had stopped walking to cross them to know what had been going on and found him stupid- until Yellow's eyes widened in surprise and walked ahead of him, not taking playful strides, but a bit more carefully and shied her way up to Green, who'd pulled something from his pocket; a map.

"So we're going to go- what're you doing here?" said Green, who'd just noticed Yellow walking up the road slope beside him, her eyes widening and her mouth hanging so that it was in the shape of a circle that reminded him vividly of someone he'd met before but couldn't quite put his finger to it.

"I just wanna know where we're going!" she exclaimed nearly as gleefully when she'd met him again in front of the Cafe entrance- her mind was saying otherwise, she'd told herself mentally not to speak. This drunk attitude of hers was going way too far. Damn it; she's turned into Chris. . . Now that was saying something. She just can't get that goofy smile off her face while she's drunk; at least she wasn't doing anything stupid that would give away her secret- not in front of Red-

"My Uncle Wilton's got a map, he's got plenty of maps!" she said, following Green, who was beginning to walk faster, his face slightly pink, and was avoiding Yellow in every direction possible: she was still following him, not to mention already ahead of him by a step when she went on, not even realizing what she'd been talking about, "There was this one time my Uncle had beaten a huge fish- it was so HUGE I thought I'd faint- but that was when I was four years old, I've faced much bigger now- I used to catch a SHARPEDO that was BIGGER than me!"

"Mm-hm," said Green, his eyes avoiding Yellow and were fixed on the map and where they were going, but Yellow didn't notice and was going on and on and on about her friends' names with a speed of a motorbike that was going down a hill with seventy pounds of gas. Green had been occasionally saying things like, "Yeah" and "Okay" and, whenever he hears the word "amazing" whenever it pops out of Yellow's mouth, he says "That's cool."

The both of them seemed to have forgotten that Red was tailing behind them in the first place, trying to apologize to every person Yellow's accidentally bumped against while walking backwards, attempting to get Green to notice her while she went on- which was in total shambles, of course- and was already running just to reach them: they were like a mile away from where he was right now. He straightened himself up and made to catch up with them as fast as he could: he doesn't even know where their next destination was, so it would be harder to find them if Red can't see them around anymore. . .

"Hey-_ hey_- HEY!" he called, waving his hands frantically behind a familiar brunette. Yellow stopped walking backwards and stopped talking with the speed of a blade of an electric fan set up to three once her eyes found him. Green turned around, the map he was holding a few inches above his hips, his eyes once protuberant when they laid upon Red.

"I'd thought I'd catch up with you guys- we could try continuing the tour around the island starting with the beach in the shore: I bet you anything Yellow'd like that," he suggested, already a step ahead the both of them, and Yellow began to walk normally again, and had a look of childlike interest on her face that could be read that she was more curious about the beach than the map. This immediately caught Green's attention.

"WE CAN'T!" He practically yelled- he took several, long strides beside Yellow and, next thing she knew, he was in front of Red, who'd come to a halt the second he noticed he was in front.

"Why not?" Red demanded: Yellow could tell- even at her drunk state- that he wasn't mad when he'd said this. His eyes weren't glowing eerily and they hadn't turned into slits; but that was still a mystery. She looked up at the both of them with a look of confusion in her face; masking a state of panic inside her head. Red _can't_ take them to the beach- in Yellow's drunk state, who_ knows_ what she'll come up with whilst there: the thought itself made her blood freeze.

Green looked behind Red's shoulder to look at Yellow's reaction; this seemed to have waken her up. She wasn't wearing that goofy smile anymore, and she was definitely coming back to her senses. He smiled- what a weird and awkward sight considering that Red wasn't and neither was she- and pulled her from under Red's arm by the wrist, turning to Red, "He's back."

Red looked at him, dumbfounded, his mouth hung open, looking from him to Yellow, who'd shrugged casually. "What- how the-?"

Yellow didn't know how exactly- but it was perhaps when Red had mentioned "beach." She really usually had problems with beaches- issues, more like, that only Uncle Wilton understood- Blue, Chris, Sapphire and Missy were all forcing her to go, but she just wouldn't, and Gold obviously forces the issue- and, for the first time, she'd felt so glad that Red had uttered the word so that she snapped out from her drunk state.

"So, where to next?" she asked, and Red's eyes widened in excitement- on the other hand- or the other eye- Green's closed in desperate attempt to think that this was all just a dream and sighed heavily when he opened them again, once he heard Red's booming voice, "WE COULD TRY THE BAKERY! THEN THE CONVINIENCE STORE JUST A FEW BLOCKS AWAY! THEN THE POND AT THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ISLAND!"

* * *

><p>Red slid the sliding door of the dorm, carrying a fair few- okay, that was a little of a lie: a <em>lot<em>- plastic bags that had about at _least_ fifty things inside. He walked- _sulked_, more like- to the fridge door and dropped down a few bags- one he had lifted using his _teeth_- on the floor just to open it. Once he did, he began unpacking the load and thrusted them inside the fridge with a sort of sleepy expression.

Yellow soon entered the room after him, and slid the door close and- for good measure- locked it. She had just had a really, really long day which was about to end in just a few more hours: she hadn't noticed the time and had been preoccupied with spending time with Red and Green. She plopped down her bed once she reached it and didn't even bother to do anything else but say, "Good night. . . Red."

She wanted to help him with the groceries so badly but seeing as she couldn't move- Red must have hate her; he's had much more work this day than she did and all she could do was say "good night"- but what was unexpected was that he turned around the spot, getting up from his position, and smiled warmly at her sleeping body: he thought she was asleep, but she was really just closing her eyes, but squinting to make sure what was happening.

He strode over to her, his eyes more complicated and hard to understand: what was he going to do? He bent down, biting his lip, then stood up and ruffled his bangs, and he sighed. If Yellow weren't pretending she was asleep, she'd ask him right now what was wrong. . .

He sat on the floor again and continued placing the food inside the fridge, and that was all Yellow knew before closing her eyes finally, sprawling finally into a good night's sleep, her thoughts drifting back to what the keeper and the businessman said. . .

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: _I FINALLY FINISHED THIS CHAPTER! Oh, and the drunk thing- well, I wasn't drunk when I typed that O.o But I just added it anyway to add a bit of randomness! Randomness. . . The word itself creeps me out, but the whole story is all so serious I just had to (SMIRKS) Extra slice of ice cream cake to SplitHeart1120! _**


	15. What Happened?

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Morning, everyone! I seemed to have attained the habit of posting my stories at night or early morning, because I'm not much of a morning person. Literally, one time in school days, they had to pull me out of bed because I was nearly late for school. =P Oh, and Gold and Yellow are still asleep, so don't wake them-**_

**YELLOW: **_**(YAWN) Morning, Nicole-chan, hey, what's that you got there?**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**Pika127: The cake's gone, dude, I grieve for you. But I still have ice cream cake ^_o HANG ON. I still have that? Oh, yeah. Still in the fridge (SIGH) Yeppity yep, yep, yep yep. Here, have a nice, cold, fresh ice cream cake! Here you go! I haven't done anything wrong with it. All right, maybe I did something. . . But I'm innocent! Oh, and more specialshipping on the way! WHEEEE! But, once more, there's one more equation =( Don't ask why I have such a huge brain inside my tiny head.**_

_**SplitHeart1120: You're awesome too, dude! Have another cake! I insist! (SMILE)**_

**ME: **_**Shh, Yellow, you'll wake Gold up and we'll all be in trouble. Oh, and this is my VERY FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! It's already June the Sixth so classes will start! That's FIFTEEN CHAPTERS' WORTH of my story! I'll have to speed up my work if I want to keep up my first day of high school!**_

**FOURTEENTH CHAPTER: WHAT HAPPENED?**

**DAY THIRTY-THREE IN MIRAGE ISLAND:****LOG ONE**

**A**fter four days of getting used to all the things in Mirage Island, Yellow was told by Red not to leave the dorm again- because that will cause her trouble that's worth more than ten thousand words to put in a story- and had to suffer the consequences by staying inside being bored. That would be easy, since she would be grounded somewhere she scarcely knows, with only a rommate to talk to once he gets home after eleven o'clock in the morning after he's done his schooling who thinks she's his gender and not being allowed to get outside whether she liked it or not. . . But she can't stand it any longer. This was a weekend already. The least Red could do was have fun (with her.)

"Come on, Red!" she said, literally shouting the morning of her first weekend in Mirage Island. Red wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead exasperatedly, sighing. He opened his eyes and found Yellow staring down at him, scowling. He rolled his eyes. He didn't want to get out of bed now, not when Yellow was standing next to him lying down on it. She deserved to be punished, that's all. Yellow calculated the average days she's been in here; it's been 31 days the last time, so one day's passed that's equivalent to: so two is being divided by that and is already equivalent to 3 and a half days, and that must mean to be multiplied by four, so it's twelve and a half, and dividing it by seven; about two days? She mentally groaned. That must mean she's still got about 70 days left until she gets back to Hoenn and meet up again with Gold and Uncle Wilton. . . and had to survive her time here.

Yellow stood to her full height, her hands on her hips, frowning at Red, who'd begun to shield his eyes from the dazzling light from the window- she'd pushed aside the curtains to make him wake up- by turning over and pressing the pillow on top of his head, groaning in a disgruntled manner. She sighed and sat down beside him, beginning to give up. After all, she was no closer in solving why Red's and Green's eyes glow before turning into slits then into a different colour and completely changing their demeanor- well, not Green so much, but she gets what she meant. Biting her lip, she heaved another sigh and shook her head dissmisively.

"Never mind, Red," she said, clicking her tongue, not even looking at him, but she was hiding something at the corners of her mouth- a smirk. She heard Red sit up- she didn't even have to look- by the muffling of the bed sheets. "I guess that you'd rather to sleep the whole entire damn day than spend it with me. . . After all, I'm just a gi- boy from outside here."

The last mistake had almost been obvious if Red weren't so focused on thinking- had the guy been so thick? She smirked at the thought- _Holy sh_- she didn't continue the thought- first she was beginning to be like _Chris_, and now her worst fear had been realized: she's turned into a _mini Blue_. Bet that woman would give anything of hers to just know that Yellow's turned into a con as well. It would only be a matter of time before she starts bickering with Red like Sapphire- who next? Missy? That new student White?

Red seemed to be thinking deeply, if he weren't, then the silence wouldn't have been longer and more. . . normal? What was the word? Usual? Cliche? She wanted to make a face, but that was when Red had made his mind and disregarded that thought, "Hold on- m-maybe we've got on the wrong foot."

She wasn't going to smirk, she wasn't going to smirk, she wasn't going to smirk, she didn't expect this to happen- what the-? Of _course_ she knew this was going to happen, she even admitted that she was starting to be more like Blue- "I. . . I do like to spend the day with-"

"Oh, no, you won't," she said, suddenly regretting that she'd acted- lied seemed to have suited it more- and wheeled around, her face literally surprised and shocked as Red's was. Then she realized what she'd said just by looking at Red's face's abrupt formulation. "It's not like I _don't_- oh, damn, I don't know what to think anymore."

She dug her face in her hands which were resting on top of her lap, frustrated. Sometimes she thought that Blue's Scarlet Woman nature had been the result of wine- Yellow'd taken that just a few days ago, and now she was starting to. . . What the _hell _was she thinking? She didn't know what to think anymore. . . It's as if Bill and Green's knowledge of her true gender had been worse than them not knowing- Red was a special case. She just can't hide anything from him- it's as if he'd stepped into her life and they'd become sudden friends without knowing _anything_ about each other- well, a couple. Yellow sometimes thinks that whenever Red was agitated about something or impatient, his right foot taps just as impatiently as he was feeling and whenever he was feeling weepy, he says everything through gritted teeth and doesn't let his tears fall- _where was this going_?

She felt Red's hand pat her on the back- she didn't wince because she was beginning to be fond of it; Green does it sometimes to her whenever she says something snappy about Red- and she pulled her hands away from her face, blinking back tears successfully, biting her lip, but she still looked like she was about to cry- so there was no use, and she did. . . a little. Big girls don't cry and let alone guys. She heard Red mutter quietly, "Don't cry- I'm not good with anyone crying- please. . . I'm not a very understanding person-"

"Oh, very sentimental, Mister Crimson," she said sarcastically, not helping herself, sniffing. Flirting- it comes naturally when she's going to act like Blue; but she's not, and won't let herself continue it. Come to think of it. . . had she been acting like a boy all along, or was Red just too thick not to notice? Either way, it was a good thing- or rather, only one was the good thing: the first was negative and had a negative answer. No, no she wasn't. If Red had been the only person in the island to not have noticed, then he might really deserve the thickest guy in the world trophy. . . or chocolate bar, if he could differentiate it. Green hadn't been that thick- but if he was, he'd eventually find out.

She heard Red chortle beside her and straighten himself in his seat. "Hate to break it to you, Mister I've-got-a-girlfriend-that's-why-I-can-bully-other-guys-who-don't-" - Yellow's left eye twitched at being addressed that: she'd momentarily forgotten she was _supposed_ to have a girlfriend- "- but your girlfriend might just have been into you because you're a bad boy."

"Right- girlfriend- yeah," she muttered, embarassed, and she, too, straightened herself in her seat- uncomfortably, that is. She cleared her throat and didn't say anything else to support that remark. She was supposed to have a girlfriend, she was supposed to have a girlfriend. . . How weird to hear it, she's a girl, after all.

Then again, it was kind of ironic that she'd thought of herself as lesbian before acting like a boy and also pretending she's got a girlfriend when in truth- she's got none and she _definitely_ doesn't want one. So weird. . . so. . . _awkward_. And she was sitting beside a guy- whom she knew the most in this mad place even though he was still a stranger to her, having not known his past- he didn't even knew his so how could Yellow?- as she was crying her eyes out with her head involuntarily resting on Red's shoulder- not that she minded, of course, but considering- and let's all just consider the fact that she _liked_ this boy. Just considering. It's not like "like" like- great. Now she's used the same word thrice in a sentence that only had five.

Then Red shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Yellow immediately sprang her head right back up and threw back a few tufts of hair that had fallen in front of her ear- well, this is awkward. She heard Red gulp and mutter next to her, "So. . . what's she like?"

"What?" she said- she heard it right. But-_ what_? Who the- what's she like. . . ? What the hell was Red talking about? Yellow rephrased the words she'd said in her mind. What the- she'd mentioned her _girlfriend_, didn't she? But why was Red so interested? "Wh-who?"

_What the fr-_

She'd known who exactly and what- why the_ hell _was she asking that? She was a complete idiot, that's what. No- even an idiot seemed too kind to hear about herself. But if she were to call herself _that_. . . then that would be some kind of problem. Weird. . . Red- who seemed to have a hard time settling himself from either nervousness or- nope, it was definitely only nervousness- took one glance at Yellow for a split second then glanced back at the wall at the same span of time and glanced right back, looking disheveled and disturbed: if she weren't disguised as a boy- or if she hadn't been failing to and this was supposed to be her only success- she'd then probably burst out laughing at his face.

"Your- your girlfriend," he muttered, a tone of embarassment in his voice, but he was looking solemn and sincere as he tilted his head up and wearing a sort of grimace at the same time opening his eyes carefully: a side she only saw in Green, and that was saying something- something awkward to hear. Red acting like- or pulling a face like his- Green? That would be a first.

"M-my g-_girlfriend_?" she repeated, stunned at the same time freaked out- what the hell would she say- or rather, lie? Nice? Pretty? Seductive? _What_? Red looked at her with sincere eyes- damn those cute eyes, she can't concentrate very well- and panned them from her trembling hands to her eyes. Yellow looked down and still didn't say anything. She'd told him- no. Lied to him- that she'd. . . she'd. . . she wasn't what-she-was-when-she-was-born-if-you-catch-the-drift because she'd had _it _with her girlfriend- no. That was too generous. It should be _nobody_ at all. She knew that Red knew her personalities and can't understand why he can't think that somebody else was to_ make the first move_. And when he finds out- which Yellow hoped he won't- what would she tell him whose- whose- whose _it_ he'd played with was?

"Holy _hell_, Red! it was just a joke, do you even know what I did? I _lied_, you bastard! LIED! To _you_! Aren't you feeling any resentment at_ all_? Oh, right, because you _never_ had! Because you don't care about me, nor my feelings about how I miss my family! You care about yourself- a pathetic idiot. That's what you are, pathetic. You may not know it, but I _care_ about you more than you do _me_! I LIED! _You. Don't. Have. Any. Family. At. All!_ That's right- you heard me, no _family_ AT ALL. You don't care- you've never experienced being loved even ONCE. Don't make me feel as if nobody cares for me- don't, just because you do."

Sadly- that can't happen and isn't- She kept her trap shut. That was how she'd _wanted_ to say. Red waited for her answer without saying anything and looked as if he'd been thinking that he'd been forcing the answer right out of her but, quite the contrary, it made Yellow more nervous. She inhaled air slowly before considering to respond.

"She's- she's, well- I c-can't- my girlfriend. . . erm, nice- kinda. . ."

"_Kinda_?" Red repeated, a smirk that was reminiscent of Gold, raising his eyebrows so that they, like Yellow's, disappeared under his bangs. His tone was so cheeky that Yellow had nearly came to think that he'd been flirting with her if he hadn't thought she was a boy. He scooted a bit closer to her and leaned so close that Yellow scooted a bit further away and leaned backward so that their distance will remain far nervously.

"K-kinda, I think. . . she doesn't- no, she definitely teases. . ."

An idea popped inside her mind and she smirked- not even knowing where this sudden courage and cheekiness had come from- but she wasn't not grateful for it- she went on- unlike herself, "First of all, she's really, really cute-"

She scooted a bit closer towards Red as he fidgeted nervously in his seat, his eyes wide.

"And even though we'd only known each other a while, we'd started. She'd been really nice to me, very. And she was always there when I needed her-"

Yellow hadn't hidden her smile now, and it was wider than ever- it was almost creepy and don't think of blaming Red for gulping. He seized his collar and was tugging it as if the temperature had gone up.

"When I'd been upset or angry- she lets me talk about it- and doesn't push the topic. She made me smile when I'd had doubts."

Red seemed to have quivered unhealthily and looked anywhere but at Yellow around the room in a state of panic when her hand slowly made to get to his.

"I've noticed that when she's angry, she cries and doesn't continue. She's really very sensitive. Her eyes look so beautiful- I could see her soul with it. It's pure and innocent. And-" she watched Red's horrified face- "- she's _cute_. And really, what, do you expect me to not get attracted by a girl like that?"

She felt someting creepy run down her spine as she purposely whispered in his ear- she was becoming like Blue, she was becoming like Blue- this wasn't right, this was so wrong, so wrong- Red winced a little, then he pulled on a weird-looking face that made Yellow lean backward- which wasn't the only thing that made her do so.

"Wait, hang on," he said, and- Yellow dreaded this happening- something what seemed to be realization spread across his face. She twitched and bit her lower lip, her eyes had widened in fear. This wasn't happening. . . "What time is it?"

Relief swelled inside her body and had been awfully grateful that Red was really, truly- the thing she liked least about him but most grateful about- _dense_. But what had been his reaction earlier? Had he, for once, been _conscious _that she had been refering to him? That had been a thought, a real one, and she's sure of it this time. Was Red this dense or was had he already known and been playing along? She watched as Red stood up bolt right up from his sitting position on the side of his bed and looked at the clock frantically.

Yellow seized this chance to examine him silently- she'd never done this before, and didn't know why, she'd just done this now: staring wasn't her type at all- neither was breaking the rules, which she's done all over Mirage Island- but, quite honestly, what had she never done outside of here that she's still not done inside? Furrowing her eyebrows, she watched closely as she tried to memorize his panicky expression. He was just like Gold- his right foot had been trembling- or dancing- and he flipped his hair nervously to keep them from his eyes before flattening them down- unlike Gold, who sort of ruffles it to give them a sort of "cool" look.

His eyes darted from the second hand to the hour hand then to the minute: it was still- thank God- an hour away. Yellow raised her eyebrows.

"Hey, Red, what're you nervous for?" she'd asked, sitting back down his bed again after standing up to get a better look of him. He was shaking almost unhealthily just a second ago- now, though, he seemed to have relaxed, seeing as he plopped down her bed spreading his arms while sighing, closing his eyes.

"I. . . We'd better get ready though." He seemed to be speaking more to himself and had disregarded Yellow's question. Ready for _what_? Red sat up and picked up the cleanest- by comparison, however, and Yellow thought that this was hygienic compared to what Gold does, and she doesn't even want to think about it- clothing lying on the floor and made to get into the bathroom. Yellow took this oppurtunity to ask him-

"Red- what're you nervous- HEY!" she practically shouted, finding herself standing up, seeing as Red had already made to turn the knob around and halted- wincing, and Yellow could've sworn that he'd been hiding something from her. "Red! What're we supposed to be preparing for?"

She heard Red swear before a sound of a knob being clicked. He sighed and turned on the spot to face her as she slumped down to sit down the bed whilst her feet slid against the floor, her expression unchanged- he blinked a fair few times, and was looking at her intently- his expression changed and he looked somewhat more sincere, and his eyes glinted and the colour had faded away. His too-sincere frown instantly curled into a goofy grin before he smiled.

"Fine, all right," he said, giving in, running his fingers through his hair. Yellow smiled as well- all thought of being a girl forgotten. This was one word that hadn't entered her mind for quite a while now, and she'd been trying to act like someone else when everybody here found it harder to understand her, they'll never know, all of them, she'll just have to be careful; friend. A friend, a true one. She'll just learn to be Red's- and Green's. "You wanna know? S'okay."

He sat down on her bed again and she settled in her seat herself. "There's this kind of feast every weekend. There, I've said it."

Something inside her plummeted into the bottom of the endless pit and couldn't find its way back that may stay there forever after hearing what Red had said.

"F-feast? You're kidding," Yellow exclaimed, her hands literally trying to pull handful of her hair. He was kidding- sure he was. . . But he looked like he wasn't. He was, wasn't he? WASN'T HE? She watched Red's expression turn into a comical one; he found this situation funny, does he? "I can't go there! After the fiasco about the Vaporeon prank incident? _NO WAY!_"

Red couldn't hide his glee anymore- that idiotic _git_. He's laughing- just look at him, rolling on the bed, tears appearing in his eyes. Yellow frowned- or rather, pouted childishly- or, rather, child-_like_. Scowling, she went over to the bedside and slapped him on the shoulder- Red took it in a playful way, though, and had been still laughing; on the floor, after she heard a thud before closing the bathroom door and locking herself within it, her back against the door.

No way, no way, no way, no way in _hell_ she'll go out in public again- no way in that goddamn hell of a school. Not even for a million- _no_. She slid against the door and waited for Red's laughter to end- which, in fact, wasn't even close to it; on the contrary, it got even louder- the damn idiot was having the time of his life laughing at the other side of the door. Swearing through gritted teeth, she sat on the bathroom floor without opening her eyes, hot blood splitting into cells and erupting inside her body- which seemed to have its own hailing weather.

She got up miserably- thinking that there was no other- appropriate- option- and leaned across the sink, gasping. Yellow looked at her own reflection before she threw her straw hat off and turned the knob of the faucet: the lukewarm water automatically went out and she immediately held out her hand and the water splashed on her face. She gasped and closed her eyes, panting, as the water dripped from every inch of her face, her hair splattered across her forehead.

"What am I gonna do. . . ?" she said to nobody in particular, staring at the water which had just been drained. She clicked her tongue and slowly looked up to look at her reflection: it might have been her imagination, but her reflection shrugged and whistled as if it could care less. Yellow glared at her own reflection and let her thoughts race against her own will.

"I shouldn't've asked- I already knew what _you'd_ say," she said lazily, hiccupping in spite of herself, smiling weakly. Her reflection rolled its eyes and folded its arms comically.

_You really don't like this idea, do you?_

"Ha- hell, I hate it," she said, then felt a twinge of pain as she did. She gulped and considered this for a moment. "No- not much, but it's not like I hate it."

Her reflection had rolled its eyes again before it could even answer when they'd heard laughter at the other side of the door again. Yellow couldn't have agreed more. She put on a bracing smile despite Red's echoing laughter within the bathroom.

"I guess I'll just have to grit my teeth and do it," she said, biting her lower lip and getting up. She stared at the cabinet next to the bathtub and had a sudden idea. It was open, both of the closet doors; and there was a clothes' hanger hanging at the rack and Red's old school uniform had been hung there along with his cap: a smaller one, mind. If the students at the school recognize her from her dressing- Yellow tugged the long collar of her turtle neck- maybe they couldn't when she'd be disguised as one of _them_.

* * *

><p>Yellow nearly practically tripped whilst tying her shoelace; the only thing supporting her was her right foot- and she was, as a matter of fact, <em>hopping<em> to keep her balance. Red jogged to keep up behind her and didn't dare shake her by the shoulder when he did.

"This is one of the-"

"This is goddamn STUPID!" Yellow said, and, the shoelace of her left shoe finally tied, began to walk normally again as the both of them approached the Hall. Red rolled his eyes. He pushed Yellow when he'd seen as she'd cowered and started to turn around.

"Don't even think about it," said Red slyly, and had succeeded in pushing Yellow from the position- she wasn't as light as he'd predicted, though.

Yellow bit her lip: the worst idea she'd ever come up with. Now Red was opening the doors to the Refectory slowly: the inside was huge. Really huge.

There were five long, varnished tables that seemed to be as long as half a mile and the food that had been sitting there was being devoured by the students- had they been _that_ late?- and the lighting inside seemed to give Yellow the impression that Professor Oak was a very wealthy old man; they were chandeliers- and ten times bigger than the one inside his office- and they were hung up over every table.

The Refectory's whole area seemed to be almost _five_ of her house combined- or six, and the chandilier alone- only one chandelier- seemed to have outsized her _room_ just by looking at it. At the middle of the room stood a foot-high wooden stage and a table which had a height that had been lengtheir than its weight- or whichever adjective to describe as 'lengthier' isn't as descriptive- and there stood Professor Oak, who'd changed into some kind of woolly clothing, grinning at the sight of his students and behind him yet another long table for teachers.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and she glanced behind it: Red had been observing her the whole time and had a frown on his face along with a scowl, his hands on his hips. "Are we eating or not?"

Yellow took this as a sign and instantly responded, "Of- of course we are."

Red looked for a moment skeptical, but he gave in. There must be a reason why- Hadn't Red been hiding all this from Yellow just an hour ago? And he seemed to be rather impatient and they'd hurry up eating: so unlike him. He lead on and Yellow followed him to the nearest table where what seemed to be more than hundreds of students have been eating at, porking down everything they could get their hands on; it was a wonder why they weren't getting fat.

"Come on, let's get to our seats before someone else barges in!" Red insisted loudly, and Yellow was in the verge to shout when he found them some seats next to a student and pushed her down on it before he had. Once he did, he immediately reached for the food on the table and munched them down greedily- if not, in Yellow's suspicious opinion, hastily.

For the first time in her entire life- she'd felt kind of odd. Seeing Red eat like that was the least of her worries. She didn't move her eyes away from facing the food she'd been stabbing with the fork and gulping it down: the students around them had their eyes glued to only her. Trying- and almost literally failing- to focus on her food. She was very grateful that Professor Oak had taken up the microphone.

"I am, as well as the other teachers, proud to welcome another week's passed here at Crescens!"

Yellow- all thought of the people staring at her suspiciously- glanced at Red, her eyebrows disappearing under her bangs.

"'Cresceons?'" she repeated, startled. Was that Latin or something? French, she could understand- but _Latin_? Or was that Greek? Must be. . . Red turned at her reproachfully, then took a sip from his glass of water after looking as if he'd considered this question for a moment before answering.

"Latin," he said, nodding, and betrayed a hint of impatience for the first time. He half-glanced at the small stage before turning back at Yellow again. "Green's not here."

"G-Green?" she said, finding herself standing up as well as Professor Oak's voice echoed the Refectory, being ignored. She looked down at Red again. "How'd you know-"

Less than a second later, the doors of the Refectory opened and it seized everyone's attention. Yellow's eyes widened as the figure that opened the doors panted, wiping sweat from his forehead sorely. She half-glanced at Red; he was frowning, biting his lip.

Yellow looked back again- the brunette's presence had silenced everyone in the hall, making it very quiet and eerie. His brown hair was wet with scarlet blood, and his clothes were ripped and torn, and he had been limping. Red made to get out of his seat and strode over quickly to Green. Yellow rushed forward and went over to Green.

"What happened to you?"

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: **_**It's finally been finished! My first two weeks in school's been AWESOOOOME! Oh, and this is the last-minute review:**_

**LAST-MINUTE REPLY TO REVIEW**

_**SS19: =) Thanks! Oh, and I'm really attached to calling you Specialshipping19. =) Have an ice-cream cake! ^-^**_


	16. Red and Green's History

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Hi, everyone! School's been great for me — no — EXCELLENT! Although I'd think that I've seen some familiar faces. Classmates have been great to me — but I really dislike stereotypes O.O Don't even ask. Oh, and about the huge Refectory . . . just watch Harry Potter and see if you could spot the Great Hall ^_^ Yeah, I'm a proud ADDICT (THUMPS CHEST PROUDLY) Though my filthy hypocrite of a sister (I doubt I even call her that. A snake is much more reliable than she is) keeps stealing all my clothes that I have to use a lock on my cabinet. That showed her; she was pissed off when I've told her that the clothes inside my closet weren't even a QUARTER OF THE HALF PERCENT OF CLOTHES that had been in hers. I mean — my clothes are old-fashioned and are too big for me and she had the NERVE to overstretch them. Thanks a LOT. **_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**SplitHeart1120: What . . . NO! (AHEM) I think I've mentioned somewhere in a chapter that there's no other possible way to get back to the real world . . . unless it's already've been 3-and-a-half months. Anyway, you'll find out soon, real soon. All right! Have a cookie! Go on, say "aah . . ." Just open your mouth.**_

_**Tamachi: Oh . . . SORRY! Haha, oh well! Umm, Crescens means 'increasing.' You know, the economy in Mirage Island's increasing, as you can see. Oh — and about that 'great story thing . . .' (BLUSH) It's just an idea, I guess . . .**_Qu'est-ce que vous avez fait penser cela, Yellow _**meant 'What have you been thinking, Yellow?' in French. Umm, sorry! I guess I'm just a little mixed up, you're not my too-smart friends . . . But on second thought, they don't understand French nor Latin either =) Thanks for reviewing! Here, have cake! =) Oh (NODDING AFTER READING THE VIRTUAL CAKE SENTENCE) and why not? After all, it IS called FEEDBACK! (LOL) Oh, and they know a LOT of languages because Crescens is a VERY advanced school. Oh, so about Cliff-hangers, huh? Mm, there's a real reason their eye colours change . . . MUWAAHAHAHAHA! And it's explained in THIS chapter! MUWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! **_

_**XXX: Gee, thanks! =D Have ice cream sandwich! No, I insist =) And please take time reading the story, don't be in such a rush O.o 15 chapters in three days? That's just too much . . . shouldn't your parents be keeping an eye on you? I mean, are they worried that you've been in the internet for a while? I mean, this story's not going anywhere, I promise you. So please take time in reading ',=)**_

_**Tigrun: I'm still a fan of yours in YouTube!**_

**ME: **_**(CLAPS HANDS) So! Now that that's done — I dunno what I'll do . . .**_

**GOLD: **_**What the hell! (SUDDENLY STOPS WAVING THE SUPPOSED-TO-BE-EXPIRED BOX OF GRAPE JUICE) You've started this section without thinking what you'd say?**_

**ME: **_**I . . . I think — I mean — not that I wasn't — umm . . . I was excited . . .**_

**YELLOW: **_**Come on, Gold — just cut her some slack, the kid's been writing nonstop for two weeks finishing that story — **_

**GOLD: **_**SOD OFF, WOMAN!**_

**YELLOW: **_**. . . (BLINK)**_

**ME: **_**. . . (BLINK) (PRESSES 'ENTER' BUTTON BEFORE GOLD COULD SAY ANYTHING ELSE)**_

**FIFTEENTH CHAPTER: RED AND GREEN'S HISTORY**

**DAY THIRTEENTH: ****LOG TWO**

**"W**hat happened?" Red demanded hoarsely as Yellow tried to support Green — he shoved the both of them away as he shook his head, literally bending down as blood splattered everywhere on the Refectory Hall floor on their position. Yellow got splattered a bit: but what was worse was that Green had appeared to have returned to school after being faced against someone — or _something_.

The Refectory Hall remained silent. Then Professor Oak seemed to have come back to his senses when he'd exclaimed, "Not again — this can't be happening again — Red, Yellow —"

Then there was an outbreak of loud insults at Green as Professor Oak climbed down the wooden stage and walked over to them — in his old condition, Yellow's opinion was that he'd reach them in ten minutes: but her thought had been hitting her head hard . . . Had Professor Oak said, 'again?' And how did Green get like this . . . ?

"I don't need help!" Green shouted, seeing as Yellow stepped forward to his aid: she furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes flickering between his bloodstained shirt and his ripped jeans: she wanted to yell back at him that he really did look like he needed help, but bit her tongue. And there was the faintest sign that his eyes flashed and an icy-blue colour streaked; his nails had dug deep into his palms and was looking at Red aggressively, which gave him the look of an injured wolf — er, Mightyena.

Red took a step backward, but he was glaring at Green, and Yellow just stood there, watching — it seemed like a movie being replayed all over again: the both of them had been angered by each other, and Red's eye colour had unmistakably changed into a lighter, higher tint: blood-scarlet, and his teeth were bared, and Yellow can't seem to know which expression showed more anger.

A few seconds had elapsed, and Red and Green still continued to glare at each other without speaking. The only noise was the crowd of students in the Refectory shouting insults at Green — but, to Yellow's utter surprise, he disregarded them all. For a split-second, she thought that Red might hit him — then his expression lightened — a bit.

"Fine — let's just take you to your dorm," said Red indifferently. Then he turned to Yellow and gave her a nod which she knew to mean that she must help Red support Green.

"GREEN!"

Yellow and Red glanced around to look at the person who'd shouted, their arms around Green's shoulders, while Yellow had suddenly felt Green's whole body heave her down so that it was painful just to look around; Professor Oak had already been running for a quarter of a mile now — he was already rushing to get to them until his blurry dot became bigger every second, panting.

"You shouldn't have done it again! Red, Yellow —" — he gestured to the both of them — "— take him to the — !"

"I'll just go back to my dorm, thanks," said Green coldly, and as he did, he didn't even look his grandfather straight in the eye — Yellow's eyes widened and realized that she shouldn't be surprised by this: Green had had issues with Professor Oak and she knew why. To separate one from his one is bad enough — but to _force_ someone at such a young age? In _here_, Mirage Island? She looked from Green's face to Professor Oak's, who'd just been breathing heavily and was now glaring at his grandson with what looked to be the urge to shout in front of him. Instead, Professor Oak contented himself with a low snarl and turned his heel.

She felt Red give a little twitch as some student had thrown a meatball using his spoon and had purposely aimed for Green's face but most gratefully missed. He bore his teeth aggressively and his breathing quickened — his eyes were now slits but judging from what he was doing, he was trying to calm himself down — and Yellow would've winced if Green hadn't given a groan.

"C'mon," she said, her vision going blur, speaking for the first time after quite a while, patting Red on the back and pulling herself together, Green's shoulder nearly making her stumble if Red hadn't gone to his senses and helped her with Green.

The students in the Refectory had once again broken into loud noises but were throwing insults at the three of them as they made their way to the door and had closed it behind them.

Blood still dripped from Green's entire face, and it landed on Yellow's forehead, which she was thankful that she hadn't been wearing her straw hat but Red's cap; the brim had just been long enough for the blood to leave a trail behind and there weren't any holes in it either; it was weird how she could almost taste how the blood was. She didn't dare wipe it.

Green slid his back against the wall, his brown hair a mess and some scars showing underneath the hair and the scalp — Red let him and Yellow sit on the floor for a moment before thinking of something to ask Green. He paced back and forth in front of the both of them as Green closed his eyes in pain while Yellow just watched the pair of them.

"Green — Green — Green, what've you been _thinking_?" said Red loudly — but only loud enough so that they will only hear. She didn't say anything but felt a some kind of _de ja vu _about all this. This had been the second time this week that Red's exploded just after leaving the Refectory. The only difference was that he was mad at Green.

"I'd said I'd do it," said Green indifferently, as if that ended the matter — he should know better than that. This was so unlike Green. He's supposed to be calm and collected, and smart enough to even know that he shouldn't do anything so dangerous that will lead him to this. He was still avoiding anyone's eye, and had consciously and carefully been avoiding — even Yellow wasn't ignorant enough not to notice — talking to Yellow. His eyes were still closed; Yellow concluded that it was out of pain, and was barely speaking loud enough because blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Red, however, didn't take notice to any of this, and obviously hadn't had the sympathy at the moment to, because he was too busy shouting at Green. It was weird — usually, it had been Red that took risks and it was Green who'd shout at his stupidity for doing it. Beside himself, Red shouted himself hoarse.

"You've been inside there for the whole _night_, haven't you?" said Red, and if Yellow had been Green, the words would have made a great impact on her. She glanced from Red to Green wordlessly, not knowing what to do, and she had been silent for quite a while now. Green didn't answer, looking as though Red will continue. Had Red been right? It was true that Green wasn't in his dorm since midnight a few hours ago — but where had he been? "You think you could handle that thing but you can't — we're stuck in this place — and you know it."

What the —

"I know I couldn't handle it," said Green, avoiding the subject. Red's eyes just glinted and glowed scarily — his teeth were bore and his skin was bypassing red and turning maroon.

"THEN WHY DID YOU GO BACK THERE?" Red bellowed, and he had been glowering at Green's direction now, not facing the Refectory Hall door, and his beautiful red eyes simultaneously glowed into a lighter, more tinted shade of blood-scarlet. His voice had somewhat awakened Yellow when he had made a sudden movement towards Green, his fist held high — Green didn't do anything but waited as if he knew this would happen — Yellow sprinted from her position when Red was only a few feet from him —

"Red, you shouldn't do this, he's injured badly already — I don't understand this all but I want to get out of this place as much as you BOTH do!"

Yellow pulled his arm behind him — with both her hands and she could barely retreat it from hitting Green. Green's eyes opened when he realized that there had been no physical impact and stared, his jaw hung open, and Yellow could now see the bruises near his eye where blood had been dripping endlessly and his hair had been soaked with scarlet blood. Red's arm had been trembling and Yellow could feel her whole body tremble as well and hear her teeth chatter slightly.

He slowly lowered his arm and so did him his head. Red turned his head around to glare at Yellow.

"You don't even get it — you're here a week — how does that feel?" Red said softly, and his eyes had returned to its natural colour; he wasn't angry anymore. Yellow didn't say anything; she didn't want to say anything that will lead Red to bellow again. He turned on his heel and stepped closer to Yellow, looking solemn, "If you'd stayed in this island since you'd been taken — you don't know what it feels like."

"And you think that's worse than being forced into living here by your grandfather," Yellow mumbled quietly — but the Hall was so quiet, so silent, that even Red had heard her. Green sat on the corner, remaining as quiet as he had been and didn't look like emerging there soon. Red's grimace turned into a face of shock; his once-crestfallen face twisted into surprise.

"But he's done this several times now; he's bound to know he can't stand a chance against it!" Red said.

"Red — I'd figured something out," said Green suddenly — Yellow's mouth was still open because she was about to come up with a retort against Red. Red stared.

"What d'you mean, figured something out?" Red said, his interest in the subject increasing. Green attempted to stand but with so much pressure and that much injury, in the end, he just landed on the floor again, panting. Yellow didn't say anything she wanted to say at the moment from that point onward and began to sense the urge to ask them what she'd been keeping inside all the while.

"Hold on a moment, guys — before you answer his question, Green — what the _hell _is this all about?" she said, glancing back at the both of them in turn. Red hesitated for a moment before deciding whilst Green looked like he already had an answer ready-made.

"We can't tell you," he told her flatly, closing his eyes once again as he made to sit up. Her hopes scattered into pieces and what she'd tried to figure out all this while had the answers right in front of her — he was just too stubborn to give them. Red, on the other hand — bless his soul — had looked thoughtful and gave a sort of reassuring smile.

"We could — let's just discuss it in the dorms," he said. Green was looking at him, surprised, and had suddenly exchanged his look into a revolted one; an uncharacteristic ugly look. Yellow beamed and Red returned it.

"Red — you idiot — sh-Yellow isn't supposed to know!" he said, and Yellow caught a tone of hesitation in his voice of using a pronoun. Red shrugged, with a sort of grimace.

"'Course he isn't," said Red with a satisfied smile. "It's just that I think you'd forgotten I've got a knack at breaking _rules_."

"Red — this could lead Yellow into danger, d'you want _that_? That's what rules are for!" Green bellowed. Timidly watching, Yellow, for a split-second, kind of felt sorry for him; seeing as he had blood all over him and bruises everywhere along with the scars and scratches while shouting himself ballistic. But Red stood his ground and Yellow felt her face burn as her respect and admiration for him rose despite Green's comment of putting herself _out_ of danger.

"Yeah, yeah — he'll be with us, anyway, but I think you also forgot that you have a knack at breaking rules — I mean, rules you'd already broken and repeated it a fair few times," Red retorted calmly, and that shut Green up. He scowled and looked at Yellow — Yellow immediately — at the same millisecond — put up a pitiful face that Blue always did; the classic puppy-dog eyes. Green's eye twitched and he turned away quickly.

"All right," he said finally.

* * *

><p>Red slid close the sliding door as he and Yellow supported Green by the shoulder and lied him down on Red's bed, the blood dried up. They slowly and carefully laid him down on his bed whilst Green lied against the wall in a painful sitting position. Yellow bit her lower lip.<p>

"I'll get some ice," she said, turning her heel on the both of them as Red came to sit down on Yellow's bed. A few steps from either of their beds was a miniature refrigerator that had been under the television set inside a cabinet like the one Bill had. She opened the closet door and bended down low — spaghetti, rice, whipped cream, potato chips, chocolate — Yellow resisted the urge to snatch one — but no ice . . .

She closed the refrigerator door and craned her neck to open the freezer at the top; Yellow retreated her hand — the temperature must have been 36 degrees Celsius below freezing point (-36 degrees Celsius.) She hastily picked up a fork from above the table near her and began to break the ice, a hundred thoughts inside her mind. This is it . . . She was finally going to get the answers — the anxiety that had been bubbling inside her stomach for so long had been replaced with excitement. But what happened to Green? How did he even get like this?

Her heart began to break into pieces; she didn't know that either . . . But will Red and Green tell her everything? She absentmindedly broke an ice that had frozen corned beef inside that looked like it had been there for quite a while now to be frozen solid but she didn't even care. Their eyes glow eerily whenever they feel angry . . . They have certain characteristics while they go mad, even baring their teeth; what's up with that? She'd seen a kind of movie like that . . . The movie Gold barely pays any attention to but she does — she ignored the squirmy feeling inside her stomach at the remembrance of her cousin — where werewolves were involved . . . They transform into wolves when the moon is full . . .

And they forget what they'd done. They were aggressive, yes — but could _Green_ be one? This was an insane world — hell, if Mirage Island existed, why can't werewolves? Yellow snorted. No way, they would. But last night, he'd disappeared and returned now bruised and the like. So he could easily be a werewolf. Professor Lupin was one, and he bit and scratched himself so that he won't hurt anyone, didn't he? That would have been proof enough.

And as for Red — his eyes glow scarlet and turn into slits . . . And his gentle attitude will instantly change into a violent one, and he bares his teeth once he snaps . . . There wasn't a way possible, no — but . . . there are signs . . .

"Oi, Yellow, you finished?" Red's voice echoed at the other side of the room — Yellow had just became aware of that at the moment. How deep had she gone within her thoughts? She remembered at the blink of an eye what she was supposed to do. She glanced down at her hands hastily; she felt them numb and they were red; she's got to get the ice soon before either Red or Green will find out about this.

"I just need a bit more — how come the ice here's so _thick_?" she said out loud — she shifted herself in her seat to get a more comfortable position but she hit her head on the door of the freezer. "Holy sh — shack, I think I hit my head — never mind —"

She suddenly remembered that Green had been much more important than her for the entire while since the incident at the Refectory. She groped her hand within the freezer blindly — her slightly healthier hand — and moved her eyes toward the ceiling.

Then something huge and cold suddenly dropped from the freezer's ceiling and hit her hand directly — she winced in pain but silently celebrated for victory; the huge chunk of ice fell off, then. She sat up straight and peered inside the freezer: her eyes had been frozen once inside and she couldn't feel them move. Her left hand had just stood there, frozen, and the huge chunk of ice that had fallen off was on top of it. Struggling to pull it out, the huge chunk of ice mustn't dry up and freeze this way — it just can't.

With an effort to pull her hand out of the freezer and the huge chunk of ice to boot, she slid her hand against the icy walls of the tiny freezer just so that it would slide itself free without breaking the chunk of ice — steadily. The freezer had been so cold that Yellow could barely keep her eyes open.

"I GOT IT!" Yellow had pulled her hand out of the freezer and had the chunk of ice in her right hand—this wasn't much to celebrate about with Red and Green — having been waiting there all the while without a clue what's going on in the fridge — but to Yellow, it was much to celebrate.

"Yeah, yeah, you got it, now GET OVER HERE," Red's voice echoed in the kitchenette and Yellow was made to get up and close the freezer door gently, the ice — though it seemed to have been burning her hand — being held by her right hand, seeming to be used to the cold.

She strode over a few chairs that had been sitting there all the while and pulled open a cupboard door effortlessly — it could have been of how feeless her hand had been right now because of the ice — and groped her left hand within it, feeling its way to something; she finally pulled a plastic bag out of the cupboard door and dropped the chunk of ice in it, not pushing back the small pull-door of the cupboard — and finally returned to the bedroom . . . which had been not seven steps yet from the kitchenette.

Green had been sitting up against the wall, lying on Red's bed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes painfully — and Yellow could have sworn she'd heard him breath heavily — whilst Red was sitting beside the bedside table, looking thoughtfully deep in thinking; and he appeared to look like he'd waited for Yellow to come back, and seemed to not pay attention at what he was doing until he'd heard Yellow's footsteps grow louder when he'd looked up.

Yellow ignored his stare and continued wordlessly — and with an air of almost an empty callousness — and pulled the plastic bag with the chunk of ice within it close, making her way to Green, who'd been breathing heavily at the corner of the bed against the wall, ignoring Red completely before she lifted the ice pack on Green's head and then he made a sort of movement to hold the ice from slipping down.

"So . . . all right?" she asked conversationally — avoiding the subject of the incident in the Refectory earlier, leaving Red out of the topic absolutely. She felt Red's foot — which had been leaning against Yellow's boots — stir beside her and didn't bother. Sunlight from the curtains had struck her face and she decided that closing the curtains would have been best; she leaned across Green's legs and pulled the curtains close before she leaned back to sit down on the seat.

"Fine," Green muttered through gritted teeth.

"If you say you're fine every time I ask you if you are, then I'm starting to think that gritting your teeth and breathing heavily with blood dripping from every inch of your body —" — she indicated his whole body whilst Green kept quiet — "is what you call 'fine.'"

Green scowled and opened his eyes with a different expression on his face. He sighed and pulled himself together, settling himself in his seat, and his right hand moved to a spot of his face where scratches and marks were visible.

"All right, then," said Red from behind — and he came to sit down next to Green on the bed whilst Green pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and began to dab the blood that had been dried up a bit from earlier — Yellow still ignored Red, but she couldn't help but notice a twinge of annoyance in his voice as he'd said it. "Green — I know you'd been there — and we've told Yellow we'd explain it to him."

Yellow admired how ignorant this git had been, but didn't admire how ignorant _she'd_ been, not so used to being addressed to "him" nor "he." She shifted herself uncomfortably in her seat as Green eyed her suspiciously, but didn't say anything; she'd always admired how taciturn he had been, and if he would talk right now, though . . .

"Okay — I'll tell Yellow," Green said at the corners of his mouth — grudgingly. She felt Red's body beside her collapse with ease as he hung his head in relief, and he sat down the chair again, wiping his own forehead with his hand.

"So, Yellow — what do you wanna—"

"Green, would you mind if I ask where you'd been last night first?" Yellow was sure that her eagerness to drop Red out of the subject had made her interject him almost coldly. To Green, however, this was nothing but full curiosity. Red seemed baffled, though, and didn't say anything yet. Red had always been conscious that whenever that Green was with them, he seemed to be always the third wheel—just because he didn't even know that Yellow was a girl; so it's basically his fault, but Yellow didn't want to be too horrid with him; she'll just start to stop ignoring him — er, that seems a bit too extreme; how about 'notice?' — After Green will be done mopping his bruises.

Green looked at her with a sort of dubious expression; he looked like he wanted to say something but wisely didn't when he remembered that Red had been with them. Yellow, however, felt her heart thumping wildly in her chest, as if it would break out of there any moment, and the feeling of missing something will be gone the time Green will tell her everything . . .

Green took a deep breath before answering whereas Yellow heard Red plop down the chair he'd been sitting on grumpily, to which she feigned ignoring, "It . . . all started when Grandpa . . . When Grandpa found out from this old friend he'd had since they were young; Mirage Island."

That . . . had been strange to hear. . . And it sort of rang a bell. An old man as old as Professor Oak that noticed Mirage Island before anybody else could . . . ?

Green wiped his troubled face with his handkerchief and breathed heavily before continuing. Yellow looked at him seriously and sat down on her seat so that the tension in the room might ease up a bit. Apparently, it worked, because Green began to continue talking afterwards.

"Soon after that, we'd waited for a week — I kept whining and whining about how long we were going to stay there — I'd kept wondering why . . . why he said we'd have to abandon my — my sister," Green croaked, and Yellow's eyes widened in surprise. He'd had a sister — Green's had a sister? Why the _hell_ would Professor Oak do that? The shock had made a great impact on her so much that she instantly forgot about ignoring Red and glanced sideways at him with a look of incredulity; Red merely looked more serious and nodded reluctantly as though he knew what she was thinking.

"I was five," Green went on, his breathing heavier than ever, and the ice pack he'd been holding on to was melting — his left hand that had been holding on to the handkerchief wiping the blood slowly lost its movement into nothingness. His striking emerald-green eyes had suddenly altered into the icy, cobalt-sapphire she'd seen several times before; the nails of his fingers had dug deep within his palm and he had been trembling madly. Red's hand twitched on the bedside table and Yellow's had made a sudden movement—whilst she cringed, her left foot had touched Red's right, and she immediately retreated it. "Grandpa forced me to come with him to continue his research—I followed him, of course . . . being five. But if I knew then — I would've stayed."

Before Yellow could even ask what he knew, Green cut off her, raising his head and the rage he'd been harboring all the while had burst before her, "D'YOU THINK I'D WANT TO HAVE A GRANDFATHER LIKE THAT? WOULD I HAVE KNOWN IF I'D BEEN JUST FIVE? YOU'VE BEEN HERE A WEEK — RED'S BEEN HERE SINCE HE WAS SEVEN — WE'VE BEEN OUTCASTS ALL OUR LIVES — D'YOU KNOW WHAT HE MADE ME? SOME GODDAMN RAGED MONSTER!"

"Don't start on him!" Red bellowed, standing up and the chair he'd been sitting the whole time had been knocked down.

"Red—" Yellow began lamely, appreciating his protection of her very much—but if they continue to host a shouting contest, someone will hear them. Red cast her an angry look and, for a split-second, forgot who he should be angry with; his brilliant crimson-red eyes turned to slits and morphed into the colour of blood-scarlet — and he'd been baring his teeth; but then his expression changed instantly and he calmed down. He turned to Green again — and the anger in his eyes had been seen once more.

Green was shifting uncomfortably in his seat and was making to stand up — Yellow heaved him down by the arm and pulled Red behind so that he won't start on him — he landed on Yellow's bed, knocking over the chair again and, enraged, made to seize a pillow and throw it at Green but Yellow held up a hand to silence them both.

"Let's be reasonable, guys—" she said, standing right in front of Red to block him from Green— "This is just—SHUT UP! Please—guys—"

Green stood from the bed and leaned sideways to get a clear shot of Red and — Yellow's eyes landed behind her shoulder — looked like he wanted to do nothing but seize his pokeball and send out his Charizard right at Red's face — his eyes icy — Yellow looked in front of her and leaned right so that she'd block Red of the way to Green —

"Seriously, Red — he's injured! You can't possibly think — "

"Oh, YES, I can!"

Red seized his pokeball — and Green bent down low to seize his from his belt — Yellow instinctively followed her sixth sense — not having the _common_ sense, only relying on what comes to her — and slapped the both of them straight in the faces.

Red landed on her bed again, astonished, whilst Green — Yellow turned round — was knocked over and had hit his head on the bed, his torso and the rest of his body landing hard on the floor.

"Don't even _DARE_ cross me," Yellow hissed fervidly at the both of them. Green was breathing heavily — looking as though all thought of ripping Red from limb to limb distinguished — and didn't appear to be saying anything that will settle the matter, like always, soon. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the bed and Yellow could've sworn she'd seen them transform back to its usual colour before the eyelids blocked them from sight. Red, on the other hand, had bitten his lip, an almost horrific expression crossing his face. He ran his fingers through his hair before Yellow shifted her eyes to his — they were back to their normal shade . . .

Yellow glanced at the both of them. "Can somebody tell me what the bleeding hell is going on here?"

Green opened his eyes again slowly — Yellow had almost been pulled into a daze just by staring at them — but now was not the time. She took a sideway glance at Red, who'd been staring at her the whole while.

"Please," she said softly, practically begging . . . She forced herself to not get sapped into those beautiful shade of red eyes and to continue to speak, "I want to know — and no more shouting."

She pulled back up Red's chair and sat down, digging her face within her hands, sighing. Through the gaping hole between her fingers, she'd seen Green stifle a sigh and Red looking down at his hands reproachfully — they were deciding what to tell her and what _not_ to, it seems.

"All right — let's just leave the story about my sister for a while," said Green dismissively. Yellow lowered her hands slowly and couldn't control her eyes from widening. She glanced at Red — then back at Green. He drew a very deep breath. This was it. All she'd waited for — they were finally going to tell her. "Have you ever . . . wondered where I'd been last night?"

Before Yellow could have even opened her mouth to say something, Green went on aversely, "I've . . . been inside the forest just a mile from Ample Plains."

Yellow gasped. What the café keeper had told the businessman had been true — he's all bruised up and blood's scattered every inch of his body — his hair had been tousled — more than Red's, so that's saying something — and scratches were visible from his face. Red's had a nasty temper— she could just see it in his eyes . . . What'd Green done there, in the forest?

"In — inside? You don't mean you've been—"

"Yes," said Green calmly. "I've been trying to do something there — beyond any reason. Because this is the most reasonable rationale other idiots will ever come up with; I — we," Green added wisely, for Red's eyes had widened in shock and surprise and his head had shot up quickly, "want to know how to get this thing out of us."

"Wha — what thing?" Yellow talked in barely more of a whisper — for she knew what this thing had been. This was in Barty's calligraphy . . . The sketches and drawings she'd seen — a very dangerous weapon — something that's been inside someone's body — two beings — she'd recalled what Gold had been telling her whilst she'd been paying attention on how "boyish" everyone else had thought she was — hell, what would they think when they'd seen her now? This was unnatural . . .

"_This_ thing. . ."

Yellow turned around—Red drew a deep breath and clutched his right hand with his left, looking like he was having a hard time sobering himself. He closed his eyes calmly and gritted his teeth. She half-glanced at Green, who'd nodded at Red's direction. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Yellow quickly turned her gaze back towards Red —

"What. . ."

Red emitted an almost feverish glow of light. Yellow took several steps backward and bit her lip; his entire body had glowed with an eerie colour of reddish-purple — he had literally been trembling: a thin tongue of brilliant flame had issued from his left hand and wrapped itself around it as another tongue had issued once more followed by three more; Red had breathed heavily and gave a sudden shout of pain.

"Red — stop!" Yellow made to go over and help him but Green extended an arm in front of her waist and Yellow was pushed back on the bed. She watched as Red — with exceeding difficulty — had forced the tongues of flame wire themselves around . . . a sort of crimson orb that had risen from Red's palm — it was sinking— Red gave another painful holler to which extent Green had hesitated on blocking Yellow from stopping him — she was yet again thrown back and had been forced to sit down the bed, watching Red's agony.

"_Please, Red, stop — I get the point now —_" Yellow said hopelessly, feeling her eyes water—she just can't bear to watch this — this is just too, too much —

"_AAAAAAAAAAARGH_!"

The ruby jewel that had suddenly risen from his palm had sunk lower — Red gave another cry of pain and forced himself with every fiber of his being to continue pushing himself to his limit just to get the orb out of his body — Yellow watched in horror as every millisecond that had elapsed had given Red stress to every single inch of his body — he could _die _— She felt her limbs fail her to keep on standing — her whole body was weak — it was almost as if she could feel what Red was right now — she could feel what he feels — it was sympathy . . .

Red had been trembling madly — it seemed as if nothing on earth would have stopped him from continuing this. He was glowing — mainly by the hand — and tongues of fire continued to appear out from his palm as the orb had risen a little higher — The whole room seemed to have been quaking as well — he gave another cry of pain before the orb, Yellow watched, had been forcibly pulled from Red's palm and had hovered in the air before it landed safely on the bed.

There was a ringing silence apart from Red's pants — the _noise _— and Yellow seized the chance to ask him what exactly happened, leaving Green in a sort of daze.

She knelt on the bed and didn't bother to check him; she lifted his head and he gave a kind of moan. He was cold—sweat everywhere and his heart — Yellow felt — had been beating over a hundred times a minute already. Red didn't collapse, but summoned all the strength he could and got up clumsily, wiping sweat from his forehead. Before Yellow could say anything, however — Red's hand moved up to her hair — which had been sticking out from the hole of the cap — and ruffled it on top of the cap, smiling weakly. Yellow returned the smile, but recalled again that she was thought of a boy and kept quiet.

"I . . . I did it — here, Green, it's on the b-bed." His voice was still shaky, and the terror had apparently not left his face yet, but Red was still happy despite what had happened not a while yet ago. Yellow remembered suddenly again that he was, in fact, on her shoulders and thought for a moment when he'll collapse on top of her and slowly lifted Red's left hand up and pulled him away from her.

Red was still trembling; but not as ballistic as he had been a while ago. He rubbed his wrist grudgingly but had a smile on his face, still chuckling quietly. Then he reached out for the orb and seemed to recover from this, though he was grinning broadly, looking up at Green, who'd pulled himself together from his stupor and had stood by beside them watching. Even whilst Green hadn't done anything, Yellow could still feel as if Green hadn't completely wiped every inch of him and came to the conclusion that Green was the type of person who'll do it immediately after a serious situation — like this one.

Red showed Green, still remaining quiet, the crimson glass ball he'd — well — forced to come out from his palm. Then Red frowned and his expression became serious. He turned to look at Yellow, sitting in a squatting position whilst she sat in a position which had both her feet leaning against each other — she realized that this was quite "feminine" and immediately shifted her position, hugging her legs.

"Red — how did that — how did that thing even come from your palm?" she asked quietly still — the memory of the scene in which the orb had risen from his hand still lingered inside her mind. Red gave her a reassuring smile — though she can't help but find it rather less than comforting; he looked weary and spent—and quite the contrary, it made Yellow even more uneasy and uncomfortable. Green sat on the bed at either side of them and hung his head, still keeping his mouth shut.

"I suppose that before I answer your question; I'll have to answer the one you asked first," said Red, his breathing still heavy, wiping the sweat that had been dripping from the corner of his mouth that forcibly reminded Yellow of Green a while earlier — Had it only been earlier and not hours ago? It felt so long . . .

Her memory sped about 750 kilometers per hour, and flashes of memory imploded before her; what had been her first question again? Too sheepish that she forgot, she didn't ask what she asked just a while ago but instead shut her mouth and waited for Red to continue.

"You asked me . . . No, it's been Green — so if you've asked Green, he'll just answer that question — you've asked Green where he's been last night — and his answer was at the forest a mile from Ample Plains, right? All right — then fire away."

Yellow gulped before saying anything and sensed that Green noticed this but didn't say anything and wisely chose to continue to keep his trap shut. "As I'd said, how did that —"

"How did 'that thing' come out from my hand?" Red finished, raising an eyebrow so that it disappeared under his bangs. Yellow nodded silently—she must have looked like a total idiot.

"Yeah — Green could do it, too — but he's smart enough not to do it — or just too weak and gutless," Red finished the last words in an undertone so that Yellow was the only one to hear but was unsuccessful and had received a hard blow by Green, seeing as Yellow had done nothing but escape a chuckle. Red rubbed his shoulder, grimacing slightly, but had hidden a smirk and caught Yellow's eye.

Then she came to realize what Red had said.

"You've got one too?" she told Green, nearly yelping. Green, looking mildly surprised that she didn't know this, raised both his eyebrows and looked as though he thought she'd already known.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, turning his gaze from her, slightly blushing. Yellow looked back at Red for some kind of answer, but he merely shrugged.

"I wonder whether you'd noticed, but our eyes change colour and our demeanors turn aggressive," said Red indifferently, shockingly pleased and mildly surprised. Yellow's eyes bulged and her heart seemed to fail.

"Yeah," Green added, speaking for the first time after his silence. He turned to Yellow, smirking, "You'd probably have thought we were some kind of werewolf or something hadn't you? Anyway, any other questions you'd want to ask?"

"B-b-but—but—that wouldn't explain EVERYTHING!" Yellow said, beside herself. How the hell would they still be in this mood when she's not following _anything_ at all? She found herself standing on the bed, her arms on her hips, looking at their completely calm and collected faces.

"That's only part of what you don't know about us," said Green coolly, if not calmly, closing his eyes. The tension in the room had risen and even Red's expression became serious.

"You don't even know exactly how we went like this," said Red softly. "I bet you anything you didn't know who Green's grandfather's friend had been."

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: **_**Holy shack — I haven't realized that this was Blue's birthday all the while! Thanks for reviewing, everyone! I'll just add a little sentence for her; **_those who come untainted grow unencumbered_**. Nice, eh? ANYWAY, I've found a new shipping other than Specialshipping that takes my interest; Commoner. I just love it. My school's been awesome lately!**_

**YELLOW: **_**Didn't you mention that your exams are approaching a few weeks?**_

**GOLD: **_**Oh YEAH! I've been mentioned and Uncle Wilton hasn't!**_

**ME: **_**Umm, I've got something of a favor to ask all of you guys there; would you mind telling me all the things you don't understand in this story so that all the loose ends will tie . . . using explanation by Red whilst the story's going on. Thanks a LOT! Seriously! Anyway, I apologize if I hadn't added much Specialshipping . . . Really sorry, I don't know what to do. **_


	17. Red and Blue Jewels

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**All righty! So I think I've left all you guys with a cliff hanger a chapter ago! Then again, I always do, because I don't know how to end one (SWEATDROPS) Oh, and school's awesome. I'm the only one who'd appeared a first year in tryouts, so it's a real big deal for me, summoning all my courage. It's taken my interest and I play fairly; I love my aim, especially when I'm not wearing glasses —**_

**GOLD: **_**You wear GLASSES?**_

**ME: **_**Yeeeessss? **_

**GOLD: **_**What's your eye illness? **_

**ME:**_** I'm Myopic. **_

**YELLOW: **_**Isn't RUBY Myopic? I thought he wore glasses as well . . .**_

**GOLD: **_**Of COURSE he wears glasses! The idiot's just too petty to wear them! Now he wears CONTACTS. But I think I've seen him wearing glasses a fair few times . . . But does that mean he wears them WHILE he wears contacts?**_

**ME: **_**A very scary thought indeed. Anyway, you guys know what? I'm one of the top ten in my 55 students-class to get a high score in MATH! And SCIENCE! Religion is always fun ^_^ And with English. So my problem's with PE. Not that I'm er — you know — but I'm very clumsy. The only sport I could do is with the hands. I do perfectly with hands, I give them my 100%, but with the feet; it seems like all the energy I've given to practice on my hand skills all my years lacks practice with the feet. As they say (always say) — I've got two left feet. And that's the truth. **_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**SplitHeart1120: ! BLUE'S BIRTHDAY IS ON JUNE? Hang on . . . She's just a few days from Emerald, isn't she? Good God, I forgot . . . Thanks, anyway! Do you want chocolate chip cookies or a slice of cake? Oh, and about the answers . . . They're only a FEW compared to the real thing.**_

_**XXX: As you can see, this is AU. Right — how ironic. I don't like AU fan fictions much, and I'm writing one.**_

_**XXX: Ah, I see. Nope, Red isn't pretending; he truly IS dense. **_

_**XXX: (Good God, you posted a LOT!) THANKS FOR THE CAKE! I LOVE YOU SOOOO MUCH! But I've never thought about that word before; mood swings . . . But I'll definitely use it in this chapter! Oh, and what was Green fighting against in the forest? . . . Mu . . . Ha. . . . MUWAHAHAHAHA! I'm nearly crazy, but all will be said in this chapter. Thanks for the loose ends, anyway! Oh, why do the students hate Red and Green? Awesome! I think I missed that loose end, so thanks! So . . . you reviewed HOW many times for slices of ice cream cake?**_

_**Tigrun: Thanks a lot! Here, a slice of cake! Go on! Don't be shy!**_

**ME: **_**On with the story or are we still here to discuss about boring stuff?**_

**GOLD: **_**(ENTERS ROOM)**__**I don't know — I always prefer —**_

**ME: **_**Oh . . . My . . . Guinness . . .**_

**YELLOW: **_**(ENTERS ROOM LIKE GOLD HAD; WEARING HIS CLOTHES AND GOLD VICE VERSA) You don't ALWAYS wear goggles, do you —**_

**ME: **_**What . . . are you guys doing?**_

**GOLD: **_**(PULLING ON YELLOW'S CLOTHES) Oh, like YOU'VE never changed identities with someone?**_

**ME: **_**I have, but —**_

**YELLOW: **_**Gold, I'd like to point out that these clothes are too big for me to wear —**_

**GOLD: **_**Stop whining, ya whiner. Anyway, we're switching sides for the rest of the day, got that?**_

**YELLOW: **_**Hey, I don't talk like that —**_

**GOLD:**_** And neither do I. Just deepen your voice a bit, will you? Jeez, after all these years you'd been disguising a boy, you can't even realize how deep our voices are —**_

**ME: **_**I want to SKIP this weird fest and — hey, now Yellow-san looks a lot like Gold-san!**_

**GOLD: **_**I'd like to point out that he's not me, I'M Yellow.**_

**YELLOW: **_**Huh? But I thought —**_

**GOLD: **_**I don't sound like that!**_

**ME: **_**Let's just skip this, guys, all right?**_

**SIXTEENTH CHAPTER: THE BLUE AND RED JEWELS**

**LOG THREE: ****SAME TIME, SAME DAY**

**Y**ellow thought that this explanation had been more than she'd bargained for as she looked down upon both of Red's and Green's faces with a look of incredulity in her face — they'd been serious this whole time, and Red had forced the shiny ball from his palm . . . Green said that he wanted it to get out of him, now Red did it — but Red also said that Green had been _'petty'_ enough not to do so. . . Come to think of it; he didn't really say what exactly he wanted to get out of him — but Red showed it, didn't he?

"Wha — what do you mean, the old friend of Professor Oak?" she repeated softly, her voice sounding tenser than she'd anticipated they'd be. She blinked much faster than she normally did and her breathing had been slow; feeling that she could give her nervousness away, she sat down the bed again, shaking. She had been trembling so madly that she had to grab on to her cap so that it won't fall off.

She hadn't been observing Red and Green looking at her; nope, not once this while. Trembling, she clenched her hands so that she could keep herself to stay sane before going ballistic. If they hadn't spoken yet, then that means that they must have been deciding whether they should tell her or not. Their shadows on the bed had been evidence enough that they took one glance at each other and caught each other's eye.

"Yellow — are you — are you _crying_?" The voice had obviously been Red's. No way — she was going to toughen herself up this time. She won't cry — not this time; she won't. Blinking back tears, she found out soon enough that she fought them — but didn't know why she wanted to cry in the first place; maybe out of frustration?

"Are you _mental_? 'Course I'm not!" she exclaimed, looking up — her watery eyes had nearly given her away, but her aggressiveness had proven enough. Red retreated his hand and looked sheepish, running it through his hair as he always did whenever he felt uneasy. Green had leaned against the wall, sitting on the bed between Red and Yellow, looking as casual as ever—he had been first to know that she was a girl, actually, and seemed to not be surprised that she'll succumb herself to tears; yet Yellow had noticed him hide a shadow of a look of concern, for some odd reason . . . Had he, found a certain reason somehow, grown especially _fond_ of Yellow?

Red cast Green — who'd looked as if he could care less than ever — a look of permission to continue giving Yellow answers; it seemed as if their trust on her was limited — she was an outsider, after all. If Green hadn't told Professor Oak why he went to the forest a mile from Ample Plains — the reason was, undoubtedly, kept a secret from him — then why tell _her_? A voice whispered suddenly in her ear that seemed to not been heard by either Red or Green: _friends_.

She shook her head inwardly—or maybe she _did_ shake her head, but Red and Green didn't seem to have minded—and convinced herself that Red and Green couldn't have thought of her as more than . . . an acquaintance who's more trouble than she's truly worth. What was she thinking?

She heard Red draw a deep breath, then he said, almost as if he'd been forced to say it, "He — he lived somewhere near Pacifidlog — and he doesn't want to be disturbed, much — but he's really a nice guy. He's — how long had his beard been again, Green?"

Red turned to Green confusedly. Green just remained closing his eyes and tried to repel all the noise around him by doing just that. Suddenly — so suddenly Yellow nearly winced — Green's eyelids flashed upwards and he blinked before clearing his throat, his Adam's apple rising and falling. He looked at Red for a second, who'd been expecting him to talk all the while, looking almost lost, and drew his breath.

"He's got white hair — all of I — and his eyes are bloodshot — but sky-blue, and his beard had been to his waist — but judging that it's been 12 years since I'd last seen him, it'd be up to his toes by now — and his teeth aren't. . . complete, and he bares them whenever he gets ballistic — he's known Grandpa for years. He's committed all his life to research — though he's had this wife that's been with him until she'd died, and he's got kids — all grown up, and grandfathers already, he's said — proud great-grandfather, he's always told us about himself — and they'd been living somewhere in the Kanto Region, his grandchildren."

Yellow's heart plummeted. He can't have been talking about —

"He's best friends with Professor Oak since —?"

"Since Grandpa had known him for quite a while — then it must have been when I'd been three; we were in Hoenn . . . and this time, we brought—" — Green closed his eyes and seemed to have paused — "we've brought my sister, Daisy, along."

Yellow thought she heard his voice crack and bit her tongue to keep herself from pushing the topic further — she'd rather not know than make someone cry. She looked down at the bed sheets sheepishly for asking, not knowing that his sister would eventually get in the subject and didn't press anything. Yellow saw a shadow next to Green's fidget uncomfortably whose she knew to be Red's. She didn't need to look at him to know he ran his fingers through his hair and scoot away from Green for a moment to avoid anything.

There was an uncomfortable pause until Green regained conscious to speak once again, opening his eyes slowly — it had been weird. Usually, it was Red who'd been sentimental — "All the while during the visit, he was wandering off to this small island—"

_No. Please, it can't be — but it's too true — it just can't — God, please —_

"Yellow, why're you looking so tense?" Red asked uncertainly — his voice had been so low ever since she'd asked who Professor Oak's friend had been, but now, he seemed to be so careful that as if he would slip the slightest — but an important — detail to Yellow; but what was there to hide? Had he not learned to trust Yellow after all? Then again—she'd been hiding from him all the while that she'd been a girl; but what gives?

"It's not that I'm tense—"

"Can we continue to where I've left off?" said an irritated Green, who'd finally opened one eye from his synchronized thinking — like some kind of aerobics that needed to close eyes. Red hesitated leaning across Green's peeved face and plopped down on his seat again, against the wall, looking sheepish — Yellow yet again had seen him run his fingers through his own hair and lift his broad shoulders with discomfort. She, however, found it hard enough to straighten herself in her seat: she'd always been the type to easily get caught in debates . . .

"Sure — where have you left off, exactly?" said Yellow carelessly that she felt Green hesitate to do something beside her that she knew to involve twitching. Red stirred at the other side of the corner of the bed, looking near hysterics. Even as she said it, her left eye twitched and she felt the corner of her mouth yank itself.

"As I'd said," Green began, going on the same way — almost differently from where he'd last spoken — and looking very cross, "He disappears every once in a while every night . . . We don't know exactly why — then came the day we began to step aboard the passenger ship to return to Kanto —"

"You live in Kanto?" said Yellow at once, shocked. The thought never occurred to her, though. . . Had she already known this? No, in this particular topic, not at all; neither Red nor Green had mentioned anything about where they've lived and where they've been born. So they, Green, his sister, and Professor Oak, just ended up in Mirage Island the same way _she_ did? Green closed his eyes and began to hesitate.

"Yes — the both of us; Red and I," said Green shortly. And Yellow had gathered that Green hadn't been too keen on giving her every detail either because he wanted to avoid giving her parts that will eventually end up where she risks her life for nothing — again — or whether because he had a certain prejudice for his past that he apparently detested; including the ones that remind him of it, like his sister and especially his grandfather. Yellow narrowed her eyes and furrowed her eyebrows; _Red_ had been from Kanto as well? "Never mind how much a coincidence this is — all of us from Kanto — anyway, as we were about to climb the stairs to the passenger ship, Grandpa didn't mind asking why that guy always leaves every night and where he's off to — so. . . he eventually found out after guessing through his hints."

"What — what, you mean —" said Yellow, swearing that this will be the last time she'll have to interrupt his story, although Red interrupted her interjection in turn.

"Yeah, you guessed it right — the old guy's been wandering the island, apparently, and had been trying to summon — yeah, like _that_'ll happen — Mirage Island, in hopes it will appear," said Red flatly as Yellow's mouth hung open — this was the last piece of the puzzle — too cliché, but it was the only word to describe it — she'd finally realized who that person was —

"Red's right," Green interrupted, breaking himself from his own reverie. Yellow turned her hung-open mouth toward him instead. "He's trying to summon Mirage Island every day and see if it could appear. The mental prat, he doesn't think for once _when_ it does — how — how — how, that's what he only thinks. _Summoning_ Mirage Island —" — Green scoffed — "— and when it finally does. . ."

"Lemme guess — the first place it gets to every time it's in par with the time in Hoenn is in Northern Hoenn — wait." A sudden thought had formed inside Yellow's mind that caused her nerves to stop working and her brain numb and it made her temporarily forget about the person that befriended Professor Oak who was foolish enough to think he could summon Mirage Island. "You're telling me that the next time the time here in Mirage Island's in par with that of Hoenn, _we'd end up at NORTHERN Hoenn_?"

"Yep," said Red simply, his head rising from hanging down. Yellow stared at him stupidly. "Northern Hoenn of the East Coast. But from there, you could finally make connections with your Uncle and cousin."

"B-b-but, what makes you think they'd still be _there_?" Yellow demanded, near hysterics, literally trying to pull handfuls of her hair — but then remembered she was disguising as a boy and immediately lowered her hands. "Anyway, it's been a month and all I've ever done all the while was _sleep_! How could you imagine them still trying to find a way to get me out of here? And I'll still have to wait for _two more months_!"

"And a half more," interjected Green. Yellow turned her watery eyes upon him desperately, hopelessly. He just blinked and the corner of his mouth yanked itself upward that gave him the look of a person who'd been thinking deeply. Red fell silent suddenly. "Look, Yellow — _no_, listen," he said hurriedly, because Yellow was in the verge of shouting again, "they love you — how could you think that they've given up on you?"

Yellow didn't answer that — she'd hoped he'd continue.

Green cleared his throat and continued, "Besides, the North of Hoenn of the East coast is close to a ship port — it's called Lilycove. You'll get your ticket there and hopefully, there's a ship just for Kanto."

Yellow lifted her head up immediately, looking from Green to Red in disbelief. "You're not coming with me, guys?"

Red exchanged nervous looks with Green then looked back at Yellow, smiling, "I . . . don't think that's possible unless we finish knowing how to get the Blue and Red Jewels out of us in the next months. Hell, maybe we'd finish it in the next year — I'm kidding," he added hastily, seeing as Yellow's eyes had widened and had turned watery.

"Anyway —" said Green loudly, finally gathering Red and Yellow's attention, "The first place Mirage Island turns up is Fortree, I think, of Northern Hoenn of the East Coast. Then it appears Southern Hoenn of the East Coast, and then finally the center of Hoenn. . . That reminds me, you've been picked up near Pacifidlog, haven't you? In the Sky Pillar Island at where the torrents are?"

Yellow's eyes imploded with flashes of her memories about the ship wreck, how they landed on the small island, about the Ipod — sort of — about Barty — about the storm — and Professor Oak's voice boomed inside her head inside the memory whilst they had been talking inside the office — it all made sense; there had been a report about water torrents appearing near the coast of Pacifidlog because of the Tropical season of Hoenn and about how Professor Oak explained it all — the weather of Hoenn affects the travel of Mirage Island — it's about the _time_ _when_ Mirage Island would appear — not the place at all — the weather that shifts the time of Daylight Savings time —

"Y-yeah," said Yellow, shaking; she could practically hear her teeth chatter. "Come t-to think of i-it. . . Uncle Wilton's fishing boat had been destroyed b-because of the storm —"

"There's been a _storm_?" said Green, astonished, and realization spread across his face. Before Yellow could answer, however, Green went on, "There hasn't been any —"

"Weren't you telling us about how your grandpa had learned about Mirage Island?" said an annoyed Red loudly. Yellow sunk back to her seat, still trembling slightly. Green, on the other hand, looked disgruntled but shook it off.

"Right, I have," he said, closing his eyes. He folded his arms and sighed heavily. Yellow straightened herself in her seat and bit her lower lip. "That man told Grandpa all he knew about an island that appeared every once in a while — but he doesn't know when the exact date it does. Grandpa was filled with excitement then. He never stopped talking about Mirage Island.

"Then, two years swept by, we returned to the island off the coast of Pacifidlog — where Sky Pillar had been. We strolled a bit, Daisy was gathering food with that man, Grandpa and I were the only ones walking around the island — then the bad weather made us run inside this kind of spiky tower for shelter until the rain stops. But it didn't; and it's been a fair few hours, we were getting desperate," Green went on. Yellow nodded shakily, knowing full well that Red had been watching her all the while. "Then we heard the tower tremble; there was a tremor. Or so we thought there was. We managed to climb our way up to the peak of the high tower and there was this kind of huge shape on top of us; sand appeared everywhere and it mixed with the rain. I could remember being scared — and Grandpa didn't give a _damn_ how I felt: he was so engrossed with the thing above us that he didn't mind me. He snatched me up — I've fainted. And that was all I remember."

"That — that's all?" said Yellow, looking up. She kneeled into a sort of crawling position, staring agape at Green. "You're kidding me? D'you know Professor Oak's friend's name?"

The corners of Green's mouth twitched, but nonetheless he replied calmly, "Yeah. Even after ten years. His name was Bartemius — but otherwise, Grandpa called him, 'Barty.'"

Something that seemed like ice had pierced Yellow's chest and made a hollow hole mentally. Somehow, even though she'd known this all along — by guessing — this information was still a big deal to her. Everything made sense now. . . And her whole world collapsed all the same. The calligraphy . . . that meant that the two objects that had been so deadly . . . which was supposedly inside someone through quite an effort was —

"Yellow," Red whispered quietly, but loud enough for all of them to hear — but gentle enough to make the whole room welcome stillness in the room once more, "You _know _this person . . . don't you?"

Yellow mutely nodded. Then a sudden emotion erupted from her chest and it had been so scaly, so scalding, it took over her own body and she, too, was wrestling over herself with this sudden madness. She found herself glaring at the both of them — the heated sensation mainly overreacting at the sight of Red — and nearly shouting hoarse.

"But that's only a few things you'd told me all about you, isn't it? What's with all the privacy? Don't you guys trust me at all? Why does every single student in Crescens Academy — simply put —" — she practically spat at the last word — "_detest_ you? You've said you wanted to get — get _that _—" — she pointed at the red jewel lying on the bed next to Red, who was looking at her innocently, almost as if he'd been afraid of being judged as guilty — "out of your body! You have, now what's the point? And — and —" — she rounded on Green, who almost — _almost_ — flinched, "_what _the bleeding hell have you been fighting in that forest? And what purpose does that serve to you? How did those gigantic marble things get inside you in the first place, anyway? Your eyes glow whenever you feel anger rising in your chest — your demeanor changes entirely — but seriously, _why_?"

"Yellow, calm down!" said Red, hopping off the bed, making his way toward the window, where the sunlight had been glaring at his bed sheets, pulling close the curtains, apparently thinking that someone outside might hear them. Yellow bit her lip, pouting, and then settled herself on the bed; her arms folded, and temporarily forgot that she'd been wearing Red's old school uniform. She found herself staring at the shabby, tattered necktie Red had once worn and realized that it had the same mark the door to the left of the Hall had — and so did Bill's furniture, and then Red's cabinet in the bathroom. . .

Red plopped down the bed again, a serious look on his face. Yellow had momentarily forgotten that Green was there, and turned to look at him, half-expecting he'd have a say at this; and he looked like he was.

"Which question do you want us to answer first?" he asked calmly, his breathing slow. There were apparent bruises on him that made Yellow forget all her anger until it had been sapped away. She carefully made up her mind, closing her eyes. If he hadn't looked so pitiful, she'd have thought that he'd been arrogant to think they could answer all the things she'd ask — but her antagonism had been reduced to nothingness, and all thought of that extinguished right before her mind's eye when she'd recalled the state of him.

"I think . . . the question of what lies within the forest," Yellow said slowly, but loudly. She felt Red and Green's eyes on her and didn't feel the least bit sheepish. She'd wanted to know — and if Red and Green won't tell her, then, she'll be all right; she'd find out eventually. But had she been a few days from the designated time Mirage Island and Hoenn's time finally hits the exact stretch, she'd have gone ballistic. Her heart thumping madly in its chambers, Yellow was afraid that it will find a way to break out in due time. She twisted her hands on the bed, not looking at either Red or Green.

"Okay," said Red finally — Yellow was hoping it would have been Green to answer, but when he didn't, her head shot up, "You wanna know? We'll tell you."

Yellow's heart leapt and it seemed to have flown up the sky at least fifty feet and her stomach had dropped and heaved her intestines down with it as Red continued, apparently unaware that Yellow was more than happy to have kissed him at the spot — hold a second — _what_? Did that just cross her mind . . . ?

"If you wanna know, it's just easy enough to ask," said Red simply, while Green sort of went pale — then his cheeks grew red, but he didn't look embarrassed the least bit. On the contrary, he looked kind of . . . annoyed. Red cast Green a fleeting look that sought his approval in the swiftest way possible that he seemed to not notice Green's expression when he turned his gaze upon Yellow again. "That thing Green always comes back into the forest for . . . bloody well be the pokémon that'll help us get rid of the Blue and Red Jewels within our bodies."

Yellow's eyes widened in both confusion and surprise, looking from Red's face to Green's, shocked. "What — you mean the huge marble —"

"Yes," said Red so patiently that Yellow's well-thought of sputter of "Green's is _blue_?" was reduced to nothingness . . . which was weird. Usually, Green was the patient one. He half-glanced at the Red Jewel anxiously and turned back to her. "Our answer; although we can force it to get out of our bodies, its power still remains in every fiber of our body. It still lingers within us, and it's killing us. Not literally," Red added hastily as he'd seen Yellow blanch. "You wanna know how it got inside us, right? Well, Green's a better storyteller."

Yellow shot Green a look, half-expecting he'd pipe up any moment, but he didn't. Instead, he just remained silent with his eyes closed. Red seemed to have fidgeted uncomfortably and adjusted his necktie, gulping. Yellow watched closely as Red approached Green with the utmost caution, careful to even lay a single finger on him.

"G-Green? Can't you tell our young friend here how we got the Jewels inside us?" asked Red unhelpfully, eyeing Green with a sort of cautious grimace of nervous vigilance. Yellow was surprised that Red had called her several nouns now — usually the nouns she hadn't gotten used to being called. She'd remembered being called millions of names by Gold — most of them like, "Blondie," "Riley," and "Ickle little Lilykinns" (as in "Amarillo") — but nicknames like "young friend" and "Low-Low" — which Red had called her a fair few times already the few days — aren't like them, not exactly.

"I'm tired, can't you see?" said Green, apparently irritated. Surely Red wasn't this dense to see? But then again . . . Green didn't look the least bit exhausted — quite the contrary, he was looking exasperated. Red saw right through Green's lie — he should have known this. Red knew Green since they were seven — she's been told — and —

Hang on. Could it have been possible that . . . ?

"Guys? Mind if I ask a question?" she said slowly. That was then Green opened one eye and began to listen carefully — Red, however, was looking thoughtful. "You didn't . . . receive the Jewels around the same time you'd entered Mirage Island? The both of you aren't very welcome with the other students in Crescens at the time . . . so that automatically means that they thought you two were some kind of freak —"

"Not exactly," said Green suddenly. Red looked at him, a wild expression on his face — Yellow, however, beamed at his answer. "Red's quite popular among them. I expect that the others just don't understand me. The younger ones, though, sort of _idolize_ me. I'm good with pokémon training — Red's terrific with battles. The students who've idolized Grandpa are — for lack of a better word — _against_ me because I don't like Grandpa much."

"Or you act very coldly toward him," said Red in a muttered undertone. Green continued as though he hadn't heard anything.

"Your first question; what is exactly inside the forest. It's this pokémon called Celebi, or so called. And before you ask me what it looks like," Green added sharply, seeing as Yellow was opening her mouth, adjusting her worn-out necktie nervously, "have you noticed the engravings on the furniture in Crescens College?"

Pictures of the pokémon engraved on the furniture exploded in her mind's eye and was almost blown backwards. She stopped playing with the neckline of Red's old uniform and turned her gaze on Green, dumbfounded, the flashes of pictures still detonating.

"You have, as I can see," said Green, scratching his chin, watching the puzzled expression on Yellow's face. "Now you know what Celebi looks like, we could easily distinguish that it's a pokémon of the forest, but we need to be careful."

"Why?" asked Yellow curiously, though her stomach was squirming all the while, as though it doesn't want her to know. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"Not at all," said Red, interrupting. He opened his mouth to continue, but saw the look on Green's face — Yellow turned to look at Green but he just looked away — and let him continue, grimacing.

"Actually, there is," said Green, glaring at Red — but of course once Yellow turned to look at his expression he turned away. Slightly frustrated, Yellow gave up on finding out how Green felt of Red right now. "Celebi's this kind of pokémon that protects the forest with a kind of shrine; its powers are overwhelming, and, through Grandpa's printed works, I've discovered that it's a pokémon that _travels_ through time —"

"There's such a thing? Isn't that just superstitious? Can it reverse how time functions here in Mirage Island?" asked Yellow eagerly, straightening herself from her seat, almost standing, but Red held an arm in front of her waist and she didn't, but went on, "Is there any means necessary to fight it? Is that why it's so aggressive to you? Because it protects the for —"

"SHUT UP A SECOND!" Green bellowed. Yellow shut up obediently and sat improperly in her seat, slumping. "Yes, there is such a thing. No, it isn't superstitious. It _can_ reverse how time functions here in Mirage Island — but it _won't_. There are ways of fighting it — and yes, it's violent to me because it protects the forest. D'you remember how the Reproduction Cycle of Mirage Island works in here?"

Yellow's left leg gave a sudden twitch and her urge to kill the sexist bastard that started the damn Reproduction Cycle made a reoccurrence.

"Yeah, and if you ask me, the bastard that started it —"

"I'm not asking you who started it," said Green calmly whilst Red gave a quiet chuckle. "The time when the Cycle starts is the same time Celebi would travel — that means that some part of the happenings here in Mirage Island changes — and the status of virginity of the woman kidnapped will remain the same before the Cycle even begun, though the baby would still be in her womb, and the slight changes include the baby's birth which is sped to a minute, hence, within less than one night, a baby boy is born, and the economy of Mirage Island increases, and the one who started the Cycle — the male student who'd kidnapped the girl — would return the girl back before the time portal of Mirage Island and Hoenn separate again."

_Fucking sexists are still sexists — they still harassed the poor girls_, Yellow thought savagely and silently agreed that she was fortunate Red and Green were gentle by nature, and had been born with their true mothers.

"But what's that got to mean? You've used the poor things powers without its consent!" said Yellow with a hint of unethicalness. Red just raised his eyebrows indifferently and Green gave half a shrug.

"It doesn't mind at all, and it's taking advantage of those changes to travel back and watch what's happened in the past, or watch what will happen in the future," he said unblushingly. Yellow gaped at him. Seeing that she was still looking confused, he tried to explain again. "Do you remember me saying that I've figured something out earlier? The time when I was soaking with blood, I mean."

"What did you figure out?"

Green gulped. Then he turned to look at Red as if to ask for approval, who shrugged. "I've figured out, from reading Grandpa's reports, that Celebi, the time-travelling pokémon, has a certain connection with the two pokémon that fought each other hundreds of years ago, the Ground-Type Groudon, and the Water-Type Kyogre — who were also the two pokémon that banished Mirage Island."

"_What_ . . . _did you say_?"

Her mouth dry, her heart a million miles up and seeming as though it won't come down soon, her stomach springing itself lower into an endless abyss, her cheeks bright red, she found herself standing up on the bed.

Green didn't do anything but nod, watching the shocked faces of Red and Yellow.

_Professor Oak kicked the door open, holding a stack of papers, trudging to the desk of his chair, only a few feet away from his grandson, who'd been helping him pile up the papers and alphabetize for him. . . for a reason. _

_Green kneeled on the floor to pick up the sheet indicating the status of Mirage Island — ignoring the presence of his grandfather completely, as though Green came there in his own account — to be honest, Professor Oak had asked him to help stack up the files, which had become quite a drag ever since last year._

"_Thanks a lot for helping me out with this, Green," he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead after putting the files down the desk with an effort, sitting down the chair nearest him. Green still acted like he didn't hear him and continued as though he hadn't heard or seen anything. _

_He felt his grandfather's eyes on him, which made him twitch for some reason, and then carried on with the work. He wasn't feeling guilty about his grandfather, no he wasn't, and no way in hell he was._

_His quivering hand moved quietly to seize the sheet of paper lying just a few feet away from him — then — crap — Professor Oak decided to speak at the same exact time; Green's hand cringed and he stopped moving, listening. _

"_Green, I know we have our differences —"_

"_Yeah, I know," said Green, anger rushing within his veins, biting his lip. He turned at the door; Red's timing was taking damn longer than usual. He was more than determined to ignore his grandfather and he was taking every single opportunity he could. But before he could speak again — much to his discomfort and irritation — his grandfather got to him first. _Damn_._

"_But it wasn't just for me, you know — Daisy wasn't there when we —"_

"_I know she wasn't there," said Green through gritted teeth, trying to keep his cool, but he just can't. Hot blood flooded his brain, and he can't seem to think clearly — all thought of calming down was still in his head, but his body wasn't obeying its command, he just wanted to beat his grandfather to the pulp and get what he deserved after all these years. Wasn't just for him? Green hadn't even wanted to come in the first place! And he didn't even give a damn how he felt — Green was five, and was forced to leave the world he knew and love to a place like hell. _

_There was a pause — and for the first time in Green's life in Mirage Island, he wasn't grateful for the silence that fell upon the two of them. He gulped and continued the paper works. Finally, Professor Oak decided to speak at this moment._

"_Daisy means a lot to the both of us," said Professor Oak tactlessly, croaking. Green scoffed. If she meant a lot to the both of them, why'd he decide to leave her and go to this place instead? "And I need to study Mirage Island for the sake of her—"_

"_Whatever," said Green flatly, interrupting his grandfather the third time. He heard his grandfather struggle in his seat, then the unmistakable sounds of shuffling feet — and the footsteps were fainting followed by the quiet slam of the door. _

_Oddly, Green felt a mixture of delight that he'd finally gotten rid of his grandfather, and the other of pity and guilt. Wrestling with this sudden madness, he found it difficult even to just stand up. He looked down the desk and found a paper sheet that read, "_THE FORMATION OF MIRAGE ISLAND."

_Slightly interested, Green picked it up and read. _

_**THE FORMATION OF MIRAGE ISLAND**_

_**According to the research done by me, I've discovered that Mirage Island's time is affected by either the weather and climate of Hoenn or, possibly, maybe, the ludicrous story of the myths and legends of the two pokémon that locked in battle causing the distortion of the time and space of Mirage Island — whom could possibly be the Hoenn legends Kyogre and Groudon — or another legend of the same scenario, the battle of Dialga and Palkia, both pokémon of the Sinnoh, which, coincidentally, is just a few kilometers from the area of Hoenn.**_

_Green scrunched his nose as the words 'Kyogre and Groudon' were read by his eyes. He glanced reproachfully at the door — half-expecting Professor Oak to barge right in again — but he wasn't there. He took a seat and sat down, his eyes darting from word to word, staring at the sheet obsessively. _

_**Their destruction may very well be the cause of the distortion of space in Mirage Island, which therefore banishes it from the sight of Hoenn, and the reversing of time —**_

_**or the climate of Hoenn that shifts back its time and season that affects —**_

— _**The pokémon Celebi that travels time allows the said kidnapped young woman to reverse her status back to her original state before the sexual intercourse began —**_

Yellow thought that they think of sex as natural and her anger for the bastard that started it increased —

— _**requires two qualified people of the skills in par — both of which are trained and skilled — that can keep the flow of the time that shifts fast and slow constant before it goes out of whack. The two of the pokémon currently in Hoenn, as specified — ludicrous myths and legends — though all legends have some kind of basis in fact — can be controlled before they get to wake up — and that same thing that controls them also has some kind of effect in the weather and climate of where it's taken to due to its extraordinary power. **_

_Green stopped reading, the sheet of paper shaking in his sweaty hands. His eyes had had difficulty in reading because of how strong his trembling had been, though he forced them to read the other words at the end of the paragraph. _

_**The two legendary pokémon — Groudon and Kyogre — have this effect on the climate once they go to an area. Kyogre, bringing forth the clouds together and creating a storm following it in its search for its mortal enemy Groudon to continue its never-ending fight, whose power is contrary of Kyogre's, bringing the heat of the sun with it wherever it walks on earth; drilling from the earth and creating heat waves that could reach up to 87 degrees Celsius. The only thing that would calm these two astonishing pokemon is the third of its trio, Rayquaza [Rey-kwey-zuh], the Sky Pokémon, who lives in the atmosphere, and can be summoned in several ways. **_

_Green skipped reading about Rayquaza and searched for a paragraph that would explain everything about himself and the Blue Jewel inside him. Had this been true? Did his grandfather . . . No, it can't be, it just can't. As much as he detested the old freak, he just won't believe that he'll . . ._

_At last, he found the answer he was searching for. _

— _**can be controlled by two mysterious orbs that emit a strange glow. I've also found out that those two orbs will help stable the time of Mirage Island, and, used properly by the holder — container, more like, because the two orbs won't have any affect at all if held by hand, though it would if someone would let the orbs sink into their body — it could control the constant movements of Groudon and Kyogre. **_

_**Though if someone unqualified enough will be able to let the two orbs sink into their body and let it get control of every fiber of your body . . . then there will be no possible way to get out of that stupor unless he lives one with it and will soon find out what true powers lay inside the orb. The side-effects have already been tested upon my grandson, who's coincidentally with me when I've entered the time and space of Mirage Island and learned its mechanics —**_

_Green's heart missed a beat as hot blood flooded all the passageways of his veins, running through every course possible, every part of where they run numb, and what was left of Green's affection—even by a tiny grain—was replaced by detest, anger, and betrayal; Professor Oak had used him, and he knew it. He even tried to force him to go with him even within the storm at the peak of the Sky Pillar to take him there. This was all planned by his despicable grandfather._

_No, wait. He doesn't even have a grandfather. Not anymore. _

_He crumpled the sheet of paper and ripped it into halves—into quarters—into eights—until it was unreadable with every word. He tossed the ripped pieces and threw them at the garbage bin, all peaceful thoughts leaving his body. _

_Before he rose from his seat, however, his eyes spotted another sheet of paper on the table, on top of the smallest of stacks already above the desk. He frowned slightly when he read, '_SIDE-EFFECTS OF THE BLUE AND RED JEWELS_.'_

_More to finding himself something to calm himself down than his curiosity, he picked it up and began to read again. _

_**THE SIDE-EFFECTS OF THE BLUE AND RED JEWELS**_

_**I've also figured out that the Red and Blue Jewels we'd found in Mirage Island has some kind of connection with the legend of Kyogre and Groudon. I was thinking that there could be thousands — even millions — of Red and Blue Jewels in Hoenn alone, but these two just might have been the ones the legend was talking about. **_

_**So I decided to test out them both with my grandson and his friend, Red. Not exactly test them with it out. Actually, I was hoping to test it out on older students — that night when I was taking a stroll in the Greenhouse, I've gathered that two young children — both of them were eight years old — had entered my office, apparently, and had been curiously foolish enough to have touched the orbs let alone have let it sink into their body. **_

_**I soon figured out that they were Green and Red. I rushed back to aide them in the Clinic, and hopefully, I wasn't too late. I quickly sprinted to my grandson first, asked him how he was doing, and he frailly told me he was fine. Red was as well, thank God. But they were never the same afterwards — Green wasn't much different, he always had his mood swings, even at the age of five, but these are slightly more dramatic. **_

_**After they'd absorbed both orbs, they decided that it would be best if they could train harder to not let the orbs hurt their bodies much. But after that incident, I've figured out the side-effects of what will happen if you let the orbs get control of you. **_

_**Green's touched the Blue Jewel, so he sort of digs his fingernails in his palm when he's angry, and his eyes change colour when he's just as mad — into the icy, cold colour of sky-blue. He's developed this sense of knowing what you're thinking when you lock eyes with him. He may be sharp, but with touching the Blue Jewel, he's never looked sharper before. **_

_**Red's touched the Red Jewel — how ironic — and his unusual red eye colour shifts into the blood-scarlet colour that will make anyone flinch. He bares his teeth and kind of growls, and he becomes as swift as lightning, and he's also developed a sixth sense that allows him to detect suspicious movements. The Red everybody knew and loved had attained this rash personality — not that he wasn't already rash, but now he's more reckless — and has the tendency to jump to conclusions.**_

"S-so you're saying —" sputtered Red, unable to speak clearly, but Yellow had interrupted.

"Professor Oak . . . he _used_ the both of you?"

Green didn't say anything. Instead, he checked the clock, ignoring Red and Yellow's rants.

"It's already 10 o'clock," he said, his voice cracking slightly, though Yellow thought she was the only one to notice because Red was looking frantic. "I'd better get back to my dorm."

Though he regained his form entirely, or so it looked like, Yellow saw a tear trickle down his cheek and her heart was like being nibbled by Pikachu.

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: **_**Wow. . . Wow. . . Wow. . . **_

**GOLD: **_**What are you wowing about?**_

**YELLOW: **_**Will you QUIT it? (STILL PRETENDING TO BE GOLD)**_

**ME: **_**That was . . . angsty. And it was sort of . . . dramatic. **_

**YELLOW: **_**Was that your first time writing Drama and Angst, Nicole-chan?**_

**GOLD: **_**That's not how I talk, don't you remember?**_

**YELLOW: **_**Forget **_that_** — hey, that reminds me, how did your exams go?**_

**ME: **_**T'was fine. (Wow . . . wow . . . wow. . .) **_

**GOLD: **_**(READS STORY) Well, if you ask me, this was sort of Feelingshipping. **_

**YELLOW & I: **_**What's that?**_

**GOLD: **_**Green and Yellow.**_

**ME: . . .**

**YELLOW: . . .**

**ME: **_**A-anyway, thanks for taking time to read my story! My section's fiesta is coming and they've made ME as the Movie Director! Sweet, huh? **_

**GOLD: **_**No — AWESOME! **_

**ME: **_**So I know the story's kind of really long, and I thank you for taking your time to read. More specialshipping in a few more chapters, though. **_

**RED: **_**(BARGES IN THE ROOM) Oi, guys, get outta here, the van's about to get here in the next seven minutes! **_

**GOLD: **_**Oh, damn, right.**_

**ME: **_**Why? What's wrong?**_

**YELLOW: **_**You should come, too, Nicole-chan! It's the last Harry Potter movie and we've got the movie tickets already out of 7,000 people waiting in line! Lucky, I call it.**_

**ME: **_**OH GOD, I FORGOT! (GETS OUT OF THE ROOM TO LOOK IF THE VAN'S ALREADY THERE)**_

**GOLD: **_**I get front row! (RUNS OUT OF ROOM)**_

**RED: **_**That perverted freak, he's addicted with Ginny Weasley now.**_

**YELLOW: **_**Really? I had the impression he's got a thing for serious girls like Hermione. **_

**RED: **


	18. One of the Awkward Moments

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Oh my goodness, everyone!**__**I'm so sorry I haven't updated in quite a while! I was too busy! Oh, Jose, what've I done? I hope you forgive me! I've been so busy lately! I can't believe I took so long! I'm so sorry, everyone! Really! I just don't know WHAT to do in this chapter anymore! All right — suggestions? Red and Green still have school and Yellow's really bored in Red's dorm — so? Please — PLEASE — SUGGEST! Okay! Change of subject!**_

_**That last Harry Potter movie was EPIC — and at the same time, it was the LAST Harry Potter movie, so . . . WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! But the exam results have come out! I got 95% IN ENGLISH! Can you believe that? I got 81% in History, but not bad, hm? In Algebra, though, I'm not sure. I suck. Bad. But why have I been instated as Time Keeper in my class? Of COURSE there's a reason. I'm great with time, just not measurement of lengths and weights. **_

**YELLOW: **_**(SQUEALING) Oh, Nicole-chan! I'm so proud of you!**_

**GOLD: **_**WHAT? (SNATCHES PAPER) You're serious? You've gotta be kidding me! This is forgery, right? RIGHT?**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**SplitHeart1120: Indeed, but Professor Oak isn't THAT heartless — but all will (somehow) be revealed. Originally, in the manga, Green was furious because he was always being compared to the Prof, but in this story, it's kinda more dramatic, like Professor Oak was getting carried away with his research and all. The old guy's selfish, true, but that doesn't mean he can't love =) So, what'd you like, caramel or chocolate?**_

_**XXX: I only sometimes wear glasses as well — but my classmates say that I only had bad eyesight because of my hair! Ridiculous, I call it, if they weren't completely crazy. I just blow my bangs aside and just go with it. Oh, right, I forgot. I haven't completely explained how Red even got to Mirage Island. Oh, and . . . Yes, yes, it's very, very, very, very, very, VERY wrong to use pokémon, especially in the means of . . . 'it's. Ahem, back to cake business — vanilla? **_

**ME: **_**I realized I've just submitted a story in the middle of writing another one for the first time . . . and it was awesome. It was Harry Potter, you know, for the release of the movie. I thought Ron's reaction was funny and I wrote it. Sort of. I'm just a sucker for Rupert Grint =)**_

**RED: **_**. . .**_

**YELLOW: **_**What's the matter, Red-san? You looked like you were about to**__**say something.**_

**RED: **_**Nope, not saying anything now.**_

**GOLD: **_**And why the hell not?**_

**RED:**_** I got cut off last time, haven't I?**_

**YELLOW: . . .**

**GOLD: . . . **

**ME: . . .**

**RED: **_**You see? Even you know it.**_

**ME: **_**It's not THAT bad, really, Red-san, don't**__**feel so bad about it —**_

**RED: **_**Really? I'd like to see you try.**_

**YELLOW: **_**PLEASE don't tell me you guys are fighting over who gets to talk?**_

**ME: . . .**

**RED: . . .**

**GOLD: **_**Wow, Yellow, you really could kick an audience out of the room.**_

**SEVENTEENTH CHAPTER: ONE OF THE AWKWARD MOMENTS**

**LOG THREE: A FEW DAYS LATER**

**DAY 36 IN MIRAGE ISLAND**

_**A**__ lone figure stood by the room, watching. Too small to even reach half of the half of the room, he got up and toddled to the other side of the room, his small little hands waving. He scanned his surroundings; this was odd. He wasn't where he was a while ago. Yet he couldn't even remember where he had been yet, which was weird. He craned his neck for a better look, and tripped on his back, but he could care less. _

_Curious, he found the ceiling a bit odder; it seemed like a hundred years old, but it was neatly painted and had been reconstructed carefully. There weren't any apparent cracks, or any scratches, but there was some odd air in the room that made the small boy consider of how old this house was. Wait — _was _he in a house? He had to be sure, though, because if he wasn't. . . _

_He shook his head. No, he can't be in a bad man's house, he just can't. But now that he thought about it, he was sort of used to being alone already. Only child in his nuclear family, and left alone home more than he could count; he's got friends, lots, but he couldn't take them with him on his way home. . . His daddy doesn't go home much, and his mummy rarely notices him because of too much work. All he wanted was some importance in life, and yet his parents wouldn't give it to him. _

_Until the accident, he was left alone. All alone. No one wanted him. Not one person. And he couldn't go back to his home because they were on vacation at the time, and he was just eight years old. _

_His brilliant-red eyes scanned the room interestedly; there wasn't a bed. There wasn't anything in the room except a small table. Where on earth was he? He remembered something about Fortree City, only three nights after the accident his parents had. . . There was this storm, and he rescued this little pokémon, and then everything blacked out._

_His eyes widened as the door of the room suddenly opened. He jumped and the table was knocked over, tripping on the floor again, staring at the door, frightened. _

"_Oh," said the man, his white hair shining in the sunlight. He was looking at the boy with care, and seemed cautious that the lightest touch on him might make him more afraid. The boy gulped, his jet-black hair blocking his view. He blew them aside and looked up to face the man. "Hello. I take it you've been from Fortree?"_

"_I-I have," said the boy, looking as though he wasn't used to speaking in public. He looked at the old man in the eye and immediately shifted his gaze toward the floor. Why did he know so much? Had it been so obvious?_

"_My name is Samuel Oak," he said, still smiling. He knelt down the floor and looked at him in the eye, but he just kept avoiding his gaze. "You are?"_

_The boy looked up at the old man with such cautiousness that he seemed to look more delicate. "I-I'm Redmond, Redmond Crimson."_

Yellow awoke, her face wet, her eyesight blur, finding herself in complete and utter darkness inside the room, panting. She blinked several times before realizing what just happened. She heard a pokémon crow in the darkness, and realized at once it was morning. It was Monday, and she dreamt of Red.

Half-expecting Red not to be there, she glanced worriedly at the other bed in the darkness; though she couldn't see him sleeping, there was an unmistakable noise of Red's snoring heard and her body immediately relaxed. She was about to plop down her pillow again when she remembered: Red wasn't going to be with her the whole day. She gave a loud groan. He'd be in school with Green, and she forgot, and she'll be all alone inside the dormitory . . . with her pokémon. And that will be very boring.

If only she could somehow sneak in so that she'll at least join him and Green with Bill in lunch. But it's hard; usually, they lunch with their other friends. Yellow's met them, but they were suspiciously looking at her. Yellow dreaded that they saw right throw her — and her clothes were a bit too obvious — and swore to God she'll never be seeing them again. But when Green mentioned — bless him — that she's got a girlfriend — untruthfully speaking — they turned their attention back to them.

The only times she'd ever taken her straw hat off was whenever she entered Bill's office, and that usually leads to releasing her pokémon in his apartment that always made him go mad. She'd never take it off in front of Red, never. Even though he's told her every little secret he's had — that made her feel so sick of herself — she just won't convince herself of him to be trustworthy. But the question is, was that it? Because he just wasn't trustworthy enough to be told? She knew deep in her heart that all Red would make of her was a normal friend, with hat or none. And . . . that made her feel worse.

Hiding a secret from her friend. . .

But now she came to think of it, won't things become awkward — on second thought, _more_ awkward than it already is? She's sharing a room with Red, practically sees him take his shirt off _too_ many times — Green usually convinces Red that he'll take the bathroom to dress up — and moreover, she's his friend.

Yellow heard Red grunt in his sleep and the lighting of the room growing less and less dim; it was probably already 5 AM, and he usually wakes up 30 minutes after and takes a shower. She closed her eyes and attempted to wait for sleep to come, but she wasn't the least bit tired. Her emotions were fixed with sympathy of Red's boredom — in the school, he's told her, it was the same lessons over and over again, and even he had high remarks in every test — and the case of missing her only friends here.

She wished that Professor Oak would have let Red or Green — or better yet, both of them — absent for at least a few weeks of school until Yellow's learned how the mechanics work here in Mirage Island. Hell, she's only been less than half of the quarter percent of places in Mirage Island. During the tour, they've been to plenty of places, like the Glasshouse — or the Greenhouse, either of the two — of the school, the Astrophysics Conservatory — where they do Astronomy to study the weather — the Subversive Lake — where she'd been splashed into just a week ago — that was just below a classroom next to the huge rock wall that turned out to be dry Poliwag eggs — because the place was where they keep their Aquatic pokémon — which turned out to be a classroom with the entrance to the lake.

And the Coast wasn't so bad either. As it turns out, while she'd fainted, she's landed in the ocean — or, at least, part of an ocean. Once you cross the farthest of the small sea, the fog rises and you don't feel much wet anymore because the island is, after all, banished, and it is a mirage. It was therefore called 'Mirage Island' because of its usual disappearances, and returns back to where it was banished. No one knows, however, Bill told her, where it gets banishes to. There are still people living within it — all of whom are male, though they usually kidnap women, and this fact still made Yellow feel grateful that she had been wearing a hat all the while but at the same time sorry for those who had been raped — so that meant that it was still on Earth.

Red gave another grunting snore and Yellow thought she heard another pokémon crow. She rolled her eyes and sat upright, taking her hat off; her hair was a complete mess. Even though she had always kept wearing her hat on whilst sleeping, it really was uncomfortable and she still hadn't been used to it. She sometimes almost wanted to stay in Green's dorm instead because he not only knows she was a girl, she felt kind of normal around him. With Red though, there's always something inside her that gives a lurch. She'd guessed that she only felt that way because Red always treated her like an ordinary friend — that's a boy.

But he wasn't the only one that's always been treating her like that, even her Uncle Wilton and Gold, so she's sort of used to it, though they think of her as a girl even though they treat her boyishly whereas Red thinks of her as another boy a few years younger than him and believes treating him the same way, and that's about the only difference. Actually, Red seemed kind of impressed that Yellow had gotten a girlfriend, which was an obvious lie that backed up her other one. She wheeled around and punched her pillow for a better shape, then didn't even bother to tie her hair when she messily put on her straw hat to sleep.

. . .

Yellow blinked; it was already sunny, and the sunlight was blocking her vision. She sat up and squinted her eyes from the colourful rays that blocked her eyesight even when she closed them. Finally, when the hallucination cleared up, the first thing she'd seen was steam coming out of the bathroom.

"What the bloody hell —?" a voice shouted from inside the lavatory that Yellow was pretty much sure was Red. She instinctively pulled the sheets of her covers up her eye level so hastily that all of Red's clothes lying on her bed had rolled on the ground.

No sooner than that, Red came out of the bathroom —

"RED!" Yellow screeched, pulling the covers over her head right now, so loudly that Red flinched, his foot even lifting. "GET YOUR NAKED ARSE BACK IN THE FUCKING BATHROOM!"

"Oh, sorry," Red mumbled pointedly as though it was nothing and not five seconds later the bathroom door swung shut. Yellow's vision had gone blurry, and all thought of telling Red that she was truly a girl extinguished, replaced by a savage urge to beat the living crap out of the bloke. He really did think of her as a boy — if he didn't, then his reaction to Yellow's panic — for need of a better word — would have been a bit more responsive.

Red was the most insensitive git ever if he really had known she was a girl. Didn't he know he was brutalizing her? Was he this dense? Not knowing she was a girl is one thing, but _come on_. Surely she hasn't still met the thickest head on earth? That was fast, and she was just fifteen to have met one of the world's biggest wonders — in Red's case, wonderer of the mind.

She grumbled and recovered from her reverie; she didn't _completely_ see him, though, much to her relief, her vision, as it always was every early morning before it regains itself, was blur, and Red himself was nothing more than a big flesh-coloured blob. To think that if her vision really _had_ regained its sight — what if she _did_ see —?

Yellow shook her head, feeling the heat rise up to her face. She bit her lip again, keeping her thoughts away from anything concerning Red wearing nothing. But when she thought about it a lot, he really was wearing something; his _birthday suit_ — she shook her head violently again; bad thoughts, bad thoughts, bad thoughts, bad thoughts. . . That was something of what Gold would come up with, and that statement alone will have made Yellow feel worse.

Stray her thoughts anywhere but Red, anywhere but Red, anywhere but Red, anywhere but. . . Then again, she thought she _did _see _something _— she slapped herself automatically and hugged her knees under her bed sheets, rocking back and forth. She was trembling madly, and closed her eyes to think of anything — _anything_ — other than Red. Her heart was thundering madly against her ribs; speaking of ribs, she thought she'd seen Red's were barely visible through all those muscle — WORSE THOUGHTS, WORSE THOUGHTS, WORSE THOUGHTS, WORSE THOUGHTS. . .

Red wouldn't think of all this if _she'd_ walked in right in front of him wearing nothing — the thought brought a violent chill down her spine — would he? She was trembling more ballistic than ever, and she could hear her teeth chattering. It wasn't like she _liked_ the bloke, was it? No, less than that, they were just friends. She snapped her eyes shut again and allowed her thoughts to enter anywhere but Red — as long as it wasn't Red, it'd be all right, okay, fine, good, better than what she was thinking right now —

Red thought of her as an ordinary boy — he'd already spoken to her in a normal tone — _why_ did he have to torture her so much? She cleared her mind of all irrational thought and began to force herself to think of something other than Red unclothed — which kept flashing in her mind every once in a while right now — of something more rational; _Lalalala, you're fifteen, lalalala, he's seventeen, you're too young for this, lalalalala, you shouldn't be thinking of such, lalalala. . . _

Just then, she heard the bathroom door open (Yellow closed her eyes so as to be sure that Red _was_ wearing something.) There was a creaking sound — which had most probably been the floor — and she heard the door close again, then a grunt, dripping noises, and someone using a towel. Her heart stopped beating for a while, then she instinctively put her hat on and lifted up the covers, peering at Red to see if he was clothed; sure enough, he was. Relief swelled inside her body with some other mixed feelings.

Then the hair at the back of her neck stood on end, and she was sure enough that this wasn't a hallucination this time, and every nerve of her body had stopped working so that she hadn't even blinked.

As Red stepped out of the bathroom, he dried his hair with the towel and threw it over his shoulder that gave him a strapping look — Yellow mentally whimpered — and threw his head backwards and ran his fingers through it, clicking his tongue. His hair flew against the air and landed right back on his forehead as he turned to Yellow, giving her a radiant smile that ought to somehow be a "good morning." But Yellow was too busy looking at something else. . .

"Had a good sleep last night?" he'd asked, drying his hair with the towel he'd whipped back and forth. Yellow closed her mouth, looked up with difficulty, her eyes in their normal shape, to face Red — her eyes had met with his. She didn't respond immediately, not moving, but Red ignored this and turned his way back to his bed, whistling while he was striding, reflexing the towel behind his neck with both his hands.

"Red — what — why — where are you g-going?" she asked hysterically, holding up the covers to cover her nose, now finding herself unable to look away or close her eyes — hell, she even forgot to _blink_ — and was completely transfixed with Red's _bare chest_. Red turned around the spot to look at her, raising his eyebrows so that they — once again — disappeared under the shadows of his bangs, apparently aware that he was supposed to be half-naked going out of the dormitory. Was his skin _that_ creamy white? She just gaped at him, watching his expression.

"It's for Swimming Course," he said indifferently, as though that settled the matter. She was watching him carefully — mainly at the torso — and nervously. They had a _Swimming_ class? When? Was this always scheduled for Sunday? She somehow pulled on an unconvinced look because Red sat down his bed and scratched the back of his neck as if he was sure she knew this before he'd told her where he was going. She blinked, and then found herself staring at his chest again. She'd never known he was so strapping. . . And, for someone so burly, Red seemed — there wasn't any other word to describe him — despite Yellow had dreaded thinking this of someone, especially Red — _stimulating_.

Hunger developed inside her body as she stared unconsciously and that was then she knew — she didn't like Red at all. It wasn't a crush, let alone love — what the bloody hell was she thinking? The feelings she'd had whenever Red was around — the reason why she's never felt anything like this way to others — this wasn't even a crush; this was _lust_. _Lust _— she wasn't feeling this, she just can't. She's too young for this, too innocent — well, not _that_ innocent — she was supposed to be very obscure to act like a boy.

". . . got it every Sunday," finished Red, looking dignified and smirking proudly. Yellow was snapped out of her own thoughts by the one who was literally _in_ them and that was when she realized that she was thinking by herself without Red's consent or knowing.

"Hmm? What?" she said, her eyes bulging, finally realizing that Red was talking to her. Red looked at her with incredulity, gaping.

"You weren't listening? I said that we've got that class every Sunday — bloody hell, Yellow! I thought you'd been paying attention! And —" Red suddenly stopped, realizing where Yellow's gaze was fixed at. She looked away distractedly, avoiding his eye, embarrassed, but it was too late.

Yellow avoided Red all the matter looking at him by distractedly occupying herself at looking at the dormitory room; but at the corner of her eye, she'd seen Red look at her distracted face and down his bare chest. She could feel her face burn with blushing but it seemed that this came unnoticed to Red, because he was busy looking at her in wonder. Now she'd done it. . .

"Are you. . ." he began slowly, eyeing her with caution. She looked back at him blankly, speechless. ". . . looking at my _chest _—"

"No," she said quickly, looking at him sharply in the eye. Both eyes were locked in a combat of truth telling. If Green could read what others are thinking by looking at them straight in the eye, then she could, too. . . but she didn't have an orb inside of her body to read their exact thoughts. She blinked several times — this was a dead giveaway — and wanted so much to take her eyes off his.

Red leaned backward and smirked in jest — which was sort of odd considering that if he found out she was a girl, he'd freak out and not look mischievously — "I see! You're jealous that I'm more muscular than you!"

_What the shagging base of Arceus's —_

"Wh — _what the f_ —" Yellow stuttered heatedly, unable to finish her cross statement, almost standing up of her seat, her sheepishness and embarrassment all shrunk so small that it had been sapped into nothingness. Red cut across her, smiling, the stupid look on his face telling her all she need to know about how thick his head could be that even a trillion ton — hell, even the whole _Earth _— wouldn't be able to get through his entire cerebellum.

"No, no, I get it," he said, his smile faltering. She was about to say something when he'd interrupted, leaving her at a furious rage. "You've got a girlfriend, right? I don't know what she's playing at — you wanna be a bit more strapping since she's a bit picky! Though I thought your build has been a bit curvy —"

If Red hadn't been looking so thoughtful he'd have noticed the dangerous colour Yellow was turning. _Curvy_? She was _supposed_ to be curvy, that bleeding git, she's a _girl_! Hold on — was this _puberty_? Oh God no — that explains the certain height change. . . Who knew she'd top _Chris_? But the significant thing was; was it _that_ obvious? So obvious that even _Red_ could see it even when she wears her straw hat?

"— but it's not like we're not gonna change that!" Red finished, running his finger down her nose mockingly. Yellow pouted and gritted her teeth. "Anyway — I'll have to go now, it's time for me to take a swim and study the Biology of Mammal Water-Type Pokémon and how they live! But by the time I'll get back later, I'd want to see you still working out!"

As he stood up from his bed, still snickering by himself hoarse, he can't seem to have the guts to face her straight in the eye because he was too busy laughing and seemed too scared to let her see the glee in his face; the glare on Yellow's face was simply murderous, and Red didn't want to break his fit of laughter only by looking at her. As he laughed, Yellow couldn't even smile the way she used to whenever he hung his head and whip his hair back and forth — especially when it's wet — out of anger.

Red had closed his eyes, still laughing, tears coming out of his eyes, as he slid the sliding door closed, shaking from laughter, looking as if he was avoiding her eye distractedly by doing so, without even saying anything else to the poor girl.

Silence loomed over the room and it reigned over everywhere. Yellow's eyes were fixed on the spot where Red had left and stuck her tongue out at it, then muttered darkly, "Bloody git."

She took off her straw hat and tossed it on the corner of Red's messy, clothes-strewn bed, scowling. She ran her hands through her hair and sighed, frustrated; clicking her tongue noisily, she laid down his bed, allowing her thoughts to sink in to her mind. . .

This was what she hated the most about Red; you just can't figure him out. . . What was wrong with him? Yellow stared at the roof of the dorm — which had been a bit blurry, because she's just woken up — and rubbed her eyes lazily, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. With others, she could just digit them without a blink of an eye — literally everyone. But her thoughts on that person weren't always accurate, though — maybe. If there were people walking around, and paused just to look at Yellow, they'd whisper things to each other, their hands cuffing their ears and having reactions.

They seemed to have been so obvious.

They were making rumors about her from someone who'd started it, or they've just eavesdropped from someone that talked about her and misheard what they've said — either way, it must have been bad because their reactions to the mutterings of their friends were shock and surprise, with a little of aghast. Yellow just ignored this; It's just a rumor, and whatever she did as far as everything innocent was look at Gold's laptop in shock — sure, she knew him to be perverse, but seriously, _porn_? — and that's about it. But, come to think of it, sharing a room with someone she knew most in Mirage Island but knew about little and taking advantage of him — whether she liked it or not — she definitely doesn't like it — by not telling him she's a girl.

That brings the subject back to Red. Why does everything have to literally remind her of Red? Anyway, he'll find out eventually, about . . . Yellow shook her head imperturbably, sighing. That's almost impossible. That prat's head was too thick, had they been outside the island, he'd have been crowned as "The Head Thicker than the Wall of China." He didn't even get it right the fact that Yellow was staring at his bare chest — to which point she'd found out she didn't like Red at all, but was pure lust — and told her that _she was jealous of his physique. _

But, asides from that, what importance was she thinking? She'd better decide what to do this day or she'll die of boredom the next — then it hit her: Green was most probably not in the Swimming Course — or whatever it's called — she knows him well, after all; he thinks schooling in Mirage Island didn't matter, not in the other world, he told her two days ago, because, frankly, the lessons are mentioned over and over again, and barely anything changes, and they've been told that the study in Crescens Academy was a whole lot more advanced than that of Hoenn or Kanto. Plus, Green's always got a good grade in school _("There's such a thing as _105_%?" said Yellow, her head throbbing_.)

She knew where he'll most probably be, though — one thing's for sure, he's somewhere in the island: training his pokémon.

. . .

The waves of the ocean crashed against the shore, and it retreated back to its body again before making another collision with the sand, roaring loudly, the sunlight's rays cutting through the wave before it crashed back down the sand again.

There was a gust of wind that entered Green's ears, and he could feel his clothes flutter but didn't give much attention — he could sense it coming — his nerves were pulsing through his body swiftly — his blood was pumping more quickly than usual, and he could feel excitement overwhelm his body in combat with his urge to calm himself — he was waiting, waiting. . . Every second counted, and every millisecond counted even more — no pun intended, this was a serious matter — and Green had been expecting it, any second now. . .

Green tried to keep his intentions focused, his mind blank, his variables set, and kept in mind that he should swipe the pokéball from the ground a fair few feet away within the time limit of half a second and still standing his ground and not allowing himself to get splashed on the water getting wet—throwing his pokéball at the exact place set where the position of the middle of the tidal wave at the designated time of 1 second. . .

The waves roared — that was the signal — this was the big one — all he was waiting for — and within the fraction of a second, before any other human senses could detect even the sound of the waves heard, he took a leap forward, swiping the pokéball off the ground and instinctively pitched it, allowing his wrists to roll, his eyes still closed — but he was already wearing a handkerchief tied in front of his eyes — and throwing it accurately at a distance, releasing a creature, he gave a huge leap backwards — literally backwards in the air — his back forming a 'U' shape, he landed on the ground on his right foot, breathing heavily — there was a sound of something released and a creature about 2 yards high had formed out of the red beam that surrounded it — the creature had two long legs, its ankles pointed, and had incredibly gigantic scissor-like claws for hands that had a pair of big, yellow 'eyes' which were most probably used to scare off other smaller pokémon — the red beam that was concealing the pokémon from exposing itself whilst it was reforming — there was no other word for it — _broke_, and its torso and head had already been envisaged into reality — it looked like a giant _ant_, in closer inspection — red body, a black thorax, and wings.

It let out a cry before it launched itself forward within the stretch of 2 seconds, including the release, its arms crossed on his chest before it fraught them that sliced the entire wave — before it had even touched the pokémon (seeing as the pokémon touched _it_) — into millions of drops which were eventually blown back into the body of the ocean by the gust of wind's change of direction.

The pokémon landed on the sand in a kneeling position, its claws still crossed transversely on his chest still, and remained unfazed, as though nothing had just happened, ignoring the sounds of the roaring waves almost arrogantly. Footsteps of his master, he sensed, could be heard by seven yards — he was approaching him.

"Well done, Scizor," said Green in an unusual proud tone, unfolding the handkerchief and taking it off his head and wiping it with his sweat, advancing toward his pokémon. His Scizor stood up and gave a bow before Green had pulled out his pokéball from his pocket and recalled him back into it; the same red beam engulfed Scizor and was soon nothing but a red light himself before he was being pulled back into the core of the metal line of the ball that separated the red and the white portion.

"Wow. . ."

Green wheeled around, his eyes bulged, expecting to see somebody unknown, his heels digging an inch below the sand — there, in the bushes, he found Yellow instead, looking awed.

"That — that was — that was —" Yellow stuttered, excitement overwhelming her body, unable to find anything to say. Apparently, Green didn't look the least bit cocky, because he didn't say anything about her behavior — quite the contrary, he looked sheepish and pink.

"H-hi, Yellow," he murmured, looking distractedly everywhere but her, turning around, trying to look busy, digging his hands in his pockets.

Yellow pushed her way through the bushes — a twig was pulled back and it hit her square on the eye — and marched toward the sandy shoreline of the island, advancing to Green.

"Morning, Green!" she said brightly, beaming behind him. When Green didn't respond, she tried to push a subject harder. "Mind if I stay here with you for a while?"

There was an undecided silence apart from the wind blowing and the constant sounds of the water approaching the shoreline before Green voiced his decision thoughtfully.

"Yeah," he said, turning from the spot to face her, the ghost of a small smile tugging his lips. "Yeah, I think you could."

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: **_**I'm sososososososososo sorry that I haven't updated in so long! Oh, and this story has a kind of implied Feelingshipping — just because it'll add more effect of the story! Though Yellow remains clueless =) And that's a good thing, you ask? OF COURSE IT IS!**_

**YELLOW: **_**Does writing another fanfic while in the middle of writing another fanfic mean that it's on Hiatus?**_

**ME:**_** I dunno. . . DOES it? Anyway, thanks a lot for giving time to read this and for forgiving me that it took so long! It's just that school's away in time and now it's paid off! Well — kudos to you guys that this story has reached this chapter! G'bye! **_


	19. I'm Not Who You Think I Am

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Yeah! Another chapter submitted and I have at least two more weeks left to pass it! What could be better? No school, that's what! Too bad that's not happening, though . . . =P And I've been teaching myself guitar lessons! Great, eh? **_

**YELLOW: **_**Wow, Nicole-chan! I didn't know you could play the guitar!**_

**GOLD: **_**She can't, it says so right in her progress diary, and so far, her hands are still numb from the calluses.**_

**ME: **_**Shut up and stop reading my progress diary! Anyway, I don't have much to say because I feel so awkward O.O Well, I could only discuss about the story. Professor Oak's not THAT heartless. He loves his family and all, but he's sort of selfish. As for more Specialshipping, I've already decided how Red would find out Yellow's a girl in a chapter! And as for the other days in Mirage Island . . . well, I don't know (SHEEPISH) Any of you have suggestions? That's the important announcement: ANYBODY WHO WANTS SOMETHING TO HAPPEN IN THIS STORY PLEASE SUBMIT YOUR SUGGESTION BY MAIL. IMPORTANT: DO **__**NOT**__** SUBMIT IN THE FEEDBACK SECTION OF THE STORY BECAUSE OF LACK OF THRILL IF I ACCEPT YOUR SUGGESTION. **_

**GOLD: **_**You mean you HAVEN'T THOUGHT ALL THIS OUT? **_

**ME: **_**Of course not! What do you think of me, a prat? Anyway, it's got a storyline, so that's good enough —**_

**GOLD: **_**It's only JUST got a storyline. And, besides, I don't see any other story that has an author that gives away free virtual CAKE —**_

**ME: **_**You want cake or not? **_

**GOLD: **_**Are you mental? Of course!**_

**ME: **_**Then keep quiet.**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**SplitHeart1120: Yep, but not much indeed =D Yellow's already much obvious as she already is — fifteen and still hiding her identity as a woman? O.o But believe me, Red is THAT dense. So . . .What flavour d'you like? **_

_**: SPECIALSHIPPING ON THE WAAAAY! And it's in this chapter! WHEEEEE! I CAN'T STOP GIGGLING! GIGGLING, I SAY! ME! WHEEEEE! But I'm watching Jurassic Park right now, so, yeah. How could someone possibly giggle while watching THAT? Anyway — thanks for reviewing! Ice cream for you ^u^ Oh, and yeah. Green knows Yellow's a girl for SURE. I should've put more detail in the last chapter. . . (GRUMBLES)**_

_**Anonymous: First question's answer: I don't actually know (SHRUGS) But my bangs go LOWER than my eyes, so I think that's why? (SHRUGS AGAIN) Thanks! (SMILES WIDE) Densest person, really, a new level of denseness no one's ever reached before. And — yes! I can't believe you'd noticed! Yep, Yellow's quite dense about the fact that she actually literally LIKES Red for sure — and it's not lust. And the reason I put Feelingshipping here is the fact that he and Red had both met her in the same way, so I figured (SHRUGS) Yeah, and thanks for the suggestion! Weird happenings in Mirage Island. . . Great! What flavour of cake do you want? Or d'you prefer ice cream?**_

_**XXX: Hahaha XD All right! Since pretty much two reviewers have asked for strange happenings — I'll write it! Thanks for the suggestion! =) Ice cream or cake?**_

**ME: **_**Well, that puts me at quite a tangle! Yellow shows herself to be quite the great liar in the last chapter — she was so good, she lied to herself, even. Seriously; **_**lust**_**, who'd believe her? =P She likes him, though not in that way — not yet, at least =)**_

**GOLD: **_**I can't believe someone's given you a GLASSES CASE for a secret admirer's gift!**_

**ME:**_** I KNOW, right? I mean, I'm not being mean, but —**_

**YELLOW: **_**You've got a secret admirer?**_

**ME: **_**Well, not so secret — my friends were sort of — kinda — obvious. I've figured them out, you know, my friends, their eyes bulge weirdly when they lie, and they talk pretty fast, and when I look the other way, my senses tell me that they're whispering.**_

**GOLD: **_**That guy's SUCH a romantic, isn't he?**_

**YELLOW: **_**Well, you can't call the guy 'romantic' just because he's given you a GLASSES CASE. The gift's for the GLASSES and not yours, anyway.**_

**GOLD: **_**I was being sarcastic. Anyway, that'll give the OTHER four some competition!**_

**ME: **_**I'm not some scarlet woman who likes all of them! I don't even like 'like' ANY of them!**_

**GOLD: **_**I wouldn't call you a SCARLET WOMAN if you haven't had FIVE boys on you already!**_

**ME: **_**All right — all right — say what you want! But I'm gonna start the story with or without your help!**_

**18****TH**** CHAPTER: I'M NOT WHO YOU THINK I AM**

**LOG FOUR: ****SAME TIME, SAME DAY**

**DAY 37 IN MIRAGE ISLAND**

**G**reen tossed the rock into the ocean, swinging his arm with all his strength: Yellow watched, awed, sitting on the boulder next to Green, her legs crossed, her hair blown by the wind that it whipped across her face as she stared, open-mouthed, at the stone thrown by Green that had reached 25 feet in the air flying across the small part of the sea whose horizon was covered by a thick mist that ruined the scorching heat effect of the sunlight.

The small rock jumped a fair few times above the undisturbed, gentle surface of the ocean — and as Yellow counted, 6 — and finally splashed and sunk below, then there were a few, half-inch waves that rode across the surface of the water followed by a few more until they hit the shoreline — then the place where Green threw the stone was calm, then didn't move.

"That was great!" said Yellow, standing up from the mossy rock and — although Green nearly turned the lightest shade of red — hugged him appreciatively, if fondly, their hair tangled up in a yellow-brown mess. After two seconds — or what seemed to have been two years to Green — she let go, tugging some of her hair behind her ear and looking up at him with the most affectionate expression. "Fast Ball — that was a Fast Ball if I've ever seen one!"

"You seem to know a lot about it," said Green casually, though he was hiding his blush behind his hair, which was being whipped by the strong wind: he turned his back on her and bent down to pick up more small stones, leaving Yellow watching him curiously. Then her expression became worrisome.

She sat up straight and looked around the area, scratching her chin thoughtfully: _If Red was in a Swimming class, shouldn't he be swimming in the ocean?_

She blinked and gulped: should she ask Green? A rather risky option, but considering she's quite concerned for Red. . . Yellow could see Green already yards away from her at the coast of the shoreline — and already had quite the collection of small stones — and another thought — even more horrifying than the first one — popped inside her mind almost instantly: she wasn't wearing her straw hat, and they're still in the vicinity of the island, and this was a _beach_, which pretty much means that there are more people here than she thought. . .

"Green?" she called, panic rising in her, literally hiding behind the boulder she was sitting on, glancing desperately at Green, "What if there are other people who'll turn up and we'd not know?"

"Relax," Green said loudly, for he was out of range for his usual soft voice. He stood up from his spot, deciding that he'd already picked up quite the amount, and turned to come back, holding an enormous pile of stones in hand. "Nobody ever comes to this place — it's deserted, and people round here don't come here anymore; and if you ask _why_, then that's because they've already taken perimeter in the other side of the island."

That had rung a bell —

"Is that where Red —"

"Yeah," said Green almost irritably, quite annoyed that she always tried to put Red in the subject. That kid can't stop talking about the bloke. He was already two yards from her when he dropped all the stones on the sand, leaving one in his palm, positioning his stance to pitch. "You still haven't answered my question, though."

Yellow thought she might have had it wrong, but he seemed to look a little snappy when since she'd mentioned Red.

Yellow stared at the sandy ground, finding nothing else to do, blinking, feeling her mouth going dry. "Was that about your pitching?"

She absentmindedly groped her hand on the sand, then felt her way to a stick — when she did, she dropped to a kneeling position, and, more to finding herself something to do than pretending to wait for Green's reply, picked the stick up and used it to draw on the sand. The head of the stick dug on the ground by her force and followed her slightly quivering motion.

The silence was nothing but boring, to be frank, because all you could hear were the waves and the constant squawking of the Flying-Type pokémon that flew by — but when Yellow thought about it a lot, it was quite relaxing, however, she could only take suspense after another in a moment in life; Green was taking so long to answer. As the waves crashed on the sand once more, Green took this silence as an opportunity to voice his reply.

"Yeah, something about that," he finally said, playing with the tiny black stone he'd picked up with his hand, digging his other stone-free one in his pocket. Yellow looked up, as though she hadn't expected him to reply. "You seemed so sure. . . Do you play baseball?"

Yellow shrugged, her knees numb from her kneeling position, and decided it best to trust Green's choice of training destination by sitting on the boulder she was hiding behind. "Much. My cousin — he's not a girl, but I told Red he's one — plays softball. I'm the pitcher, see, and I can identify pitch from pitch by the stance and the way you grip on the ball. I'm not much of a runner, so I'll stick with pitching."

Green dropped his pitching stance and turned to look at Yellow instead — usually, he thought of looking at Yellow as if she were a bright light and he _must_ turn his gaze away from her — but this was different. He twisted his face so that it looked like she'd pointed out a view above all practical dispute and he didn't understand her. Yellow looked sheepish and went back to staring at the ocean, reminiscing.

"Please don't remind me of my cousin, Green," she whispered, barely audibly. She felt her whole body tremble at the own mention of Gold, and she let her bangs fall in front of her eyes so that Green wouldn't see her eyes water — she tried her best not to let the tears flow, but it was hard. Instead, she bit her lip and began to decide whether or not to continue. When she felt Green's eyes on her, she decided it best to, because if she won't, he'll not push the subject, thinking that it might hurt her, but if she really won't, it will kill her. "It's too painful. . ."

"I'm-I'm sorry," he mumbled softly, unable to find the right words — but it seems as if he'd just said it wrong — _so_ wrong. Yellow had burst into tears and was wiping her eyes with her sleeves. Green struggled to move from his position, intention of comforting Yellow constant in his mind, but cringed suddenly when he heard her speak and his objective of soothing her imploded in the back of his mind.

"I-I should be the one who's sorry, Green," she said through muffled sobs. Yellow blinked several times to stop the flow of her tears. "It must have hurt, mustn't it? I mean, Professor Oak dragged you h-here — to this hell place — and he didn't even tell you where you g-guys were going — and — and —" — she gave a slight hiccup before continuing — "and he LEFT your s-sister! I don't even know why you didn't kill him in the first place!"

She suddenly, unexpectedly, rose from her seat and kneeled on the sand — Green made to go and get her, hesitating — before she splashed the sea water across her face.

"It's all right," she said, blinking a lot — the sea water was so _salty_. She'd never felt anything as excruciating as this in her eyes. She turned her back on him and mopped her eyes again, forcing her tears to back up. "I'm okay. Anyway — it's yourself you should be worried about right now, Green. Go on, keep training —"

"Be quiet," said Green, suddenly alert, his eyes closed. She blinked. Then she felt anger spreading inside her body in her veins before she went to get shot of him.

"Don't shut me up like —"

"I said, be quiet, I could sense someone coming!" he said loudly. Yellow's eyes bulged in shock and made to hide behind the boulder when Green tossed her straw hat at her, sprinting from the spot, not even giving her a last warning when he sped into the forest, the other way around the source of the noise, leaving her sputtering confusedly.

"Bu-bu-bu — HEY!" she called, not bothering to put on her straw hat, confusion being replaced by fear at the thought of who might have been wandering round the island when she heard the bushes rustle once more, and terror etched across her face, making no sudden movements, apparently rooted on the spot out of dread.

She was going to kill Green for leaving her, that filthy —

The leaves of the trees and the bushes rustled again, and Yellow did nothing but take a step backward, gulping. She was mental; she had hesitated on taking one more step backwards because, well, she wasn't going to dive in the ocean and hide there. But that only meant that she didn't have _anywhere _to hide. . . And who knows who's going to pop out of the bushes. . . It's definitely not a pokémon . . . Her heart thrashing inside its chambers more ballistic than ever, she waited nervously for the unknown to come out, her thoughts not exactly keeping herself calm.

Green had left her — she wasn't going to do anything at all out of fear — there wasn't anywhere to hide — she was rooted at the spot, she can't go anywhere — that person must be _anybody _— God knows what he's thinking — he, he, it's _obviously_ a he, she's in _Mirage _Island — what kind of weapon are they bringing what are his plans for her? Who was she kidding? She's safe once she's hidden her hair inside her hat, that's logical enough —

The bush rustled again, and a familiar — if angry — voice winced in pain and made his way out of the small forest, muttering darkly, his black hair sticking out of the vines before his body, followed by his foot — he gave another wince — and then his entire body dropped on the sand, his hair unrulier than ever and his face scarred that gave him the impression of a man coming out of a cave being chased by Zubat.

"Get off of me, you damn stalker. . . I said, GET OFF!"

Yellow raised her eyebrows skeptically, staring at the figure fondly, not helping herself to smile. The person lifted his foot raggedly; an unusual creature embracing its — what seemed like _ears _— around his ankle, and it didn't look like it was about to let go of him soon.

"Having troubles?" she asked playfully, half-laughing as she watched Red in his (unsuccessful) attempts on kicking the blue creature to let go of its grasp of his left ankle. She'd already forgotten about what she was worried about. Smirking, she approached Red in such a manner that made him scowl.

"Shut up," he snapped, looking at her face in ignominy — Yellow's sneer grew wider. Then she noticed the scars everywhere etched across his face and her smile faded instantly. There was another rustle of the bushes, and Yellow, half-expecting Green would come out any moment, stood on both her feet — she'd been standing on one since she was limping painlessly — and glanced expectantly, if hopefully, at the bushes again. Nothing there. Shrugging, she paid her attention to the pitiful idiot that got himself in this mess.

"Need a hand, Crimson?" she asked in an attempt to cheer the poor bloke up. Red rose from his bending position, nearly tossing his cap with his head, and blinked.

"What? Oh, no, I can handle this, I don't want you to, frankly, get tangled up in the mess I've gotten myself in," Red assured blushingly, half-smiling himself. Yellow felt her face burn and she turned away, convincing herself not to think of Red in _that_ way. "I don't wanna trouble you."

Hearing these words, Yellow looked back at Red, surprised, but he was already on his feet, patting the dirt on his own shirt, humming to himself, and looking preoccupied. Red may be dense, but he was really looking out for others, and she's only realized that just now. She blinked a few times before realizing what she wanted to ask him.

"What're you doing out here?" she said, trying to keep her voice cool and casual, but was also unable to suppress a grin when Red managed to finally get the blue pokémon off of his ankle — so vigorously that it winced and made to run back into the forest when it caught sight of her. It tilted its head a little to the left and hopped a few feet to approach her cautiously, if curiously.

Yellow kneeled down to pat the creature on its head and smiled as it gave a small squeal then returned the favour by nudging its head against her hand like a sweet puppy. Red, as she could see with his shadow, knelt down to face her, looking disgruntled, but nonetheless not ungrateful to see her.

"I could be asking you the same question," he said, holding out his hand to pat the blue creature as well. The pokemon looked at Red's gloved hand cautiously and its eyes — if any, because they were tightly shut — and there was no other word for it — _bulged_ upon sniffing it. Red tossed his face towel behind his left shoulder and settled down his seat to be comfortable with his position.

Yellow blushed. She didn't know how to answer that. She suddenly stopped stroking the pokémon's fur and looked down steadily, feeling Red's eyes on her. "I got bored. I met up with Green here knowing that he's off somewhere remote."

She looked at Red face-on and raised her eyebrows so that they disappeared under her hair. "I thought you'd be at your Swimming Course."

"S'over," said Red simply, resuming his stroking of the blue pokémon's fur. Yellow still remained in her skeptical expression and looked at Red once more in disbelief. He, on the other hand, looked up at her, his lips forming a slight smile. "And the reason I came here — and the reason I know where this place is — is because I knew Green'd be here. Does that answer your question?"

Yellow shrugged and shifted in her seat to form a more comfortable position, continuing her stroking of the blue pokémon's fur — it gave a low moan and got up, facing Yellow, then turning to Red, and back at her again, bobbing its head sideways curiously.

"Do you know what kind of pokémon this is, Red?" she asked suddenly, hugging her knees, feeling the nervousness recur in her stomach, trying to at least change the subject. Red, however, being the clueless person that he is, noticed nothing and continued to look as though the topic was leading them to somewhere progressive — on the contrary, Yellow only brought this subject for him to say something — specifically, something that won't make her feel like such a hypocrite.

"Yeah," he breathed, leaning down as the blue creature lifted its ears — Yellow looked at it with the most curiosity — and inclined to take his hat, and will predictably try to examine it. Precipitously, she scooted a few inches from her spot, thinking wisely that the blue pokémon might do the same to her, but didn't try to be so obvious. "It's a Wynaut. Plenty of these pint-sized Chupacabras live in Mirage Island. It's the pre-evolved form of the Wobbufet."

"Amazing," she breathed softly, watching the Wynaut's closed _eyes_ squint while trying to observe what will happen to Red's hat if it twirls it around with its ears — but honestly, it seemed like it was _trying_ to squint. It looked more like the width of its closed eyes thinned a little in Yellow's opinion. When it shrugged and opened its mouth, Red acted instinctively and held out a hand to seize his hat from it.

"That's mine, you walking Chaka Doll!" he said, pulling his hat from its firm grip. Yellow was in the verge to laugh, but sustained her laughter when Red was out of his balance and collapsed on the sand, the Wynaut left biting his hat.

When Red stood up, looking disheveled and furious, however, Yellow automatically moved forward and held out her hand, stretching her fingers to their peaks, and closed her eyes —

She felt her nerves working like electricity speeding toward a circuit — everything in her body stopped working, and all she could hear was her heart pounding against her chest — she also heard Red's sneakers stomp on the sand to stop him from overtaking — suddenly, the world was quiet. Almost immediately, her nerves were acting up again and her brain was functioning almost quicker than it had already been, and everything made sense once more — her heart was thrashing in her chest wildly and she tried to control her heart rate as carefully as she could — her mind was blank, and her blood in its vessels suddenly stopped when a childlike voice called out to her.

"_Who are you?"_

Almost everything in her world started to move again, but faster — ten times as fast as it already was — her veins had made their way towards her brain, acting up very fast — her heart was beating in her chest more ballistic — she was about to fall over when she felt her brain throb, when she felt the pain — it was painful, all too much for her — she saw flashes of light imploding at the back of her eyelashes — she opened her eyes, panting, and looked at the Wynaut, and at her hands.

"I'm-I'm Amarillo del Bosque Verde," she said, standing up clumsily, looking at the Wynaut, putting on a casual face. "Yellow — Yellow, for short."

"_I. . . don't think you're a male,"_ it said, leaning its head from side to side. Yellow's heart skipped a beat.

"I — Of course I —"

"_Cut the act, I know the guy standing next to you doesn't know but I do,"_ said the Wynaut, who tried to roll its eyes — this was highly imaginative because as everyone very well knows, the pokémon's eyes don't open up — with very much difficulty. Yellow felt her face heat up and glanced hurriedly at Red, who seemed to have been observing the both of them in both confusion and in determination to find out what they were talking about. He raised his eyebrows almost predictably and ran his fingers through his hair. Yellow gulped and looked back at Wynaut.

"Y-yeah, he doesn't really know anything," mumbled Yellow sheepishly, sticking her tongue out a little, and saw at the corner of her eye Red squinting his eyes as if he was trying to read her lips. The Wynaut bobbed its head sideways and nodded.

"_Okay," _it said as if it had its mind set already, cocking its head sideways once again to look at Red then back at her. _"I think I get your situation."_

Something chilly ran down Yellow's spine and she immediately reacted; she stumbled to lean forward and put her hand over its ear and whispered, not even caring that Red was watching her weirdly, "No — it's not what you think — I don't even know him that well —"

"_If you say so,"_ said the Wynaut, yawning quietly as Yellow scratched the back of its ear. As soon as that, however, it collapsed on the sand, snoring a little, and leaving Yellow's hand in midair. She smiled fondly and made to get up from her kneeling position when a dark shadow cast in front of her, shadowing her own. She looked up, sleepy-eyed, and saw Red frowning down at her, holding out a hand for her to get up.

"What the hell was that all about?" he demanded loudly. Yellow managed to get up and hold his hand to stand without tripping down from sleepiness. When she coped to stand, however, she found herself leaning backward and forward with the help of Red's hand to support her from falling — she was feeling a bit — what was that word again? Oh, right, she was sleepy —

"I talked to the Wynaut," she said, feeling herself smile widely, her eyelids drooping, barely seeing the look of disbelief and fraught Red had when he suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her with such aggressiveness that made her torpor go away for a while.

"Do you hear what I'm saying at all? You _talked_ to it? Yellow? _Yellow_? Are you even listening?" Red shouted hoarsely, not even caring that he was only a few centimeters away from Yellow — given that he thought she was a boy. Although aside from embarrassment — because she was _definitely_ feeling Red's breath against her lips — she also felt her eyes roll up and down her cornea in a very fast manner.

"I'm tumbling and rolling and jumbling in pursuit of the ferret —" she said, leaning to the left a little, seeing nothing but three Reds, all the three of them looking pitifully exasperated. He raised his hand and slapped her right across the face.

"Snap out of it, you idiot, it's me!"

"Ah, Red, I didn't mean to —"

"You could show how sorry you are by telling me just what the hell you did," Red said, feeling his irritation rising. Yellow seemed to have shrunk a little.

She shuffled her feet embarrassedly and looked at her knees with her hands behind her back, biting her lip. He _was_ going to find out eventually, right? Then again, that with her true identity as a girl, so that might take a while. After all, three months without talking to Chuchu and the others would be a close second to living in Mirage Island. When she felt herself lean to the right with all her weight following its direction, however, she had the feeling that her drowsiness was returning. Pulling herself together, she focused her attention on Red, looking up.

"I think so," she muttered, shrugging. "But I don't even know you that much yet —"

"What are you talking about?" Red snapped almost angrily, making Yellow recoil mentally. "You know my full name, you know how I got here, you know when my birthday is, you know everyone I know, you know my favourite colour, you know my deepest fears, you know my secrets — some of them — you know who I idolize, you know where I once lived, you know how I battle — Yellow, you even know what I do whenever I get nervous —"

"Anybody could figure that out," mumbled Yellow silently, barely audible, though Red continued as though he didn't hear anything.

"You know _me_," he finished, standing straightly now, letting go of Yellow's shoulders at last. Yellow stood there, her eyes bulged, feeling her knees wobble. But — no, it can't be. Red only saw her as a boy, doesn't he? Or maybe he finally . . . ? "You're third of the people I know most. The first's Green, of course, then Bill — we're pals. You know that, don't you?"

That git. Just when Yellow finally considered telling him how she talked to the Wynaut just now. Next time, she should try not to keep her hopes too high.

"I — I do, but this is kinda — I mean — You don't have to — tch, all right," she said, giving in, "You know I've lived in Viridian Forest, right?"

"One of the many things you've told me, yes," said Red, looking as though he was considering the fact.

"Well — every ten years, a child is born with special powers of the Viridian — it's a kind of gift the forest gives us," she explained almost inaudibly. There was a sea breeze that swept by and Yellow clung to her hat just in case, still looking at Red's eyes with pure solemnity. "I'm the second to the last of my kind by now — I've already lived my life more than 10 years now. I guess the last of my kind's about 5 years old —"

"H-hold on, you haven't told me how exactly you did that," said Red slowly, his eyes widening, and, for once, looking as though he understood something so clear he wanted to change the subject because he didn't want to know anymore.

Yellow nodded.

"I'm getting there — so the power of Viridian Forest, its luscious trees and its mystic pokémon — they're the reason why I talk to pokemon — the reason why I can move objects —"

"You m-_move_ objects?" sputtered Red, obviously a look of panic etching across his face with a mixture of uncertainty. The wind had blown harder and Yellow had already thought that her luck was playing something at her because this was not the proper time for it — her hair was being blown by the wind and her hat, too, was being blustered away. Even Red had a hard time trying to pull himself together by the great force of the wind.

"Yeah — hey, Red?" she said, squinting her eyes at the distance, shading her eyes with her hand: there had already been clouds everywhere, and darkness, Yellow realized too late, spread all around. "There isn't usually a storm round here, is there?"

"I know what you mean — I don't know why, though," said Red suspiciously in an undertone, also watching the sky grow darker and the wind blowing against the both of them. His eyes widened suddenly as he saw a light flash across the small part of the ocean that can be seen before the fog. He grabbed Yellow's wrists quickly and turned his back on the shore, the waves crashing against the rocks, heading for the forest.

Yellow felt the branches of the trees hit her across the face, wincing as they did, her feet aching from running, feeling her hips being hit by everything in her path — she could have easily covered her eyes with both her hands but her left hand was busy clutching on tightly to her hat and her other was being pulled by Red, whose feet were longer and whose build was stronger than hers, and, frankly, the only one who knew where they were going.

"R-RED! Where are we GOING?" she screeched, finally deciding to close her eyes, feeling scratches bearing across her face. She closed her mouth quickly so as to not get hung by something. All the while, she felt Red's grip clutch tighter around her wrist.

"We're going back — THAT'S WHY!" shouted Red frantically. Yellow felt her head throb more painfully. _Stupid idiot, he's telling me the obvious_. Red's grip was growing looser and looser, and Yellow felt her feet desperate for rest —

"Yellow! JUMP! There's a huge boulder on the way —"

"Red, just so you know, I could only _barely jump two meters _—" said Yellow blindly, literally limping now.

"Okay, okay!" Red chanted loudly, and he was about to go around the boulder when the rain had started — the water was so heavy, that Red's grip around Yellow's wrist had loosen, and she slipped halfway around the boulder, grunting as she did, feeling a sprain develop around her ankle and a bruise on her knee.

"Ack, Yellow!"

Red bended in a kneeling position to help Yellow get up, but she thrust a hand in front of him, her breathing slow, mud across her face.

"I'm f-fine, Red," she said calmly through gritted teeth; the pain was unbearable. But she was supposed to be used to this. "I'm used to it, I've been sprained plenty times —"

"Then you're mental to think you're fine," Red snapped dismissively, pulling her up with his hands. Yellow immediately fell silent. She really did need help. . .

When she got up, she unexpectedly didn't clumsily trip over like she had thought she would. Red didn't even let go of her when she finally, almost inefficiently got up. Yellow blinked.

"I could walk fine," she said almost irately. Red seemed like he was considering something there. For a split of a second, she thought that maybe he wasn't even bearing in mind that he'd help her walk. Though her foot was aching _mad_, she at least thought she'd show some gut in disguising as a boy.

"What — what's up?" she said nervously.

"We — er — how do I put this to you. . ." said Red, running his fingers through his wet hair, leaning against a nearby tree. Yellow made a face, feeling the rain tap on her straw hat, the water dripping from its brim and dropping her hair wet. "We're lost."

Yellow made a sort of swearword noise that can't seem to be understood.

"Don't you have some kind of pokémon or something?" she shrieked frantically, walking around in circles on the spot, her hands behind her back. "What a situation to put myself in! I haven't brought my pokémon either! Great! This is just what I need! In some godforsaken island where I don't know a single soul but a dense git and a forgetful teacher and some aloof loner —"

On and on she went blabbing, but Red wasn't listening. He didn't need to. He already knew it was his fault. He kicked the tip of his worn-out sneakers at the mud and dug them deep, cursing to himself. He had to find a way to get themselves out of Ample Plain Forest — or APF, as he named it, though that just pissed Green off. It was getting dark and the clouds were thundering.

"— raining! It's already bad enough without raining! And I've sprained myself — not that it's a bad thing — I feel partly responsible for this somehow — but I don't blame you entirely — we're lost in here and we don't know how to get back—"

There was lightning — and a flash — before Red had discovered something a few hundred yards from where they were. He squinted his eyes, putting his hat back on, and stood up straight to get a good look of a view. He breathed silently, slowly, catching his breath, looking out at the blue darkness. . .

There was another flash of lightning and he was finally sure that there was something there — something that could help —

"— oh, Uncle Wilton! I shouldn't have left you . . . I'm such an idiot. . ." she muttered hopelessly, standing up and limping to the nearest tree. She raised her head high, aiming for the trunk of the thin tree, looking at it pathetically and said, "I'm about to die, anyway, and I'm not going to suicide. Just fatally harm myself and —"

"Yellow!" Red's voice called a distance away before her forehead even landed on the trunk. "Get your head outta there and hurry! I think I've found shelter."

"You _what_?"

This caught Yellow in such a surprise she even forgot what she was about to do to herself and stood up straight, facing him with a look of surprise.

"There's a cave just up ahead — if we could hurry, we'd treat that leg of yours. Come on," he said, nodding the direction the small cavern was. Yellow nodded, limping towards him. When she approached him, however, she pulled her arm away when Red made to put it around his neck.

"What?" he said, unaware of the fact that she only pulled away because she was too shy to come even near him.

"I could handle myself," she muttered, heat rising in her cheeks, and she swore that the places that the raindrops touched on her cheek were turning lukewarm. Red's eyes glinted dangerously scarlet, and Yellow took this opportunity to decide. And, considering for less than a second, she slowly wrapped her right arm around his neck and limped with him under the rain.

* * *

><p>Red let out a loud sigh as he let go of Yellow, both of them sopping wet, on the floor of the cavern, panting. Yellow pulled herself together against the wall of the cave at the corner, gritting her teeth to soothe the pain even by just a little bit.<p>

Once or twice she hesitated on taking off her hat, but it was dark, anyways, and Red couldn't possibly see a thing — though there's an exception to the rule if you count the fact that his eyes glow when he gets mad. She heard someone make their way wetly to the other corner of the cave, and then she heard him give a sigh and pant. Blinking more than usual, Yellow groped for a stone — or a pebble, or anything — and eventually found two. Before the rain started, she picked up a few twigs earlier and put them around her belt just in case Green needed help with his training earlier.

Taking the twigs from her belt, she threw them at the center of the cave. Then she rubbed the rocks together, her foot just lying around nearby, watching it crackle a little.

"What are you doing?" said Red, puzzled, his voice sounding not too far from where she was, though the rain was still louder than it.

"I'm trying to —" Yellow rubbed it against each other brutally "cast —" she did it once more "this —" she impatiently rubbed them together "damn —" she tried it one more time and a light flickered from between them and they landed on the set of twigs, igniting "fire!"

The light filled the whole cave almost instantly, and Red was only feet away from her, smiling, the crackling fire shadowing the ghost of his smile. He was lying against the cave wall, one foot messily lying around the corner, and the other lying down almost undisturbed. Red's jacket was hung up a small portion of the cave wall that was sticking out of the others, which were all angling up, still soaking wet. And speaking of wet, his hair was, if possible, the unruliest of it Yellow's ever seen.

It took her a while before she realized what she was doing and pretended to be busy with the fire. Red suddenly frowned when Yellow limply leaned back against the cave wall with difficulty. He opened his dry mouth to speak.

"D'you want help with that leg?" he asked with uneasiness. Yellow's head immediately shot up and she looked at him blankly, her wet hair flying.

"What?"

Red fidgeted in his position. Yellow could feel the heat rising up her cheeks again and stared at the fire distractedly instead. She felt Red's eyes on her the whole time and was very self-conscious: she hugged her legs, the cold air sweeping by, and tried not to blink so much because the light of the fire was too dazzling to the eyes. When she looked up, almost expecting that Red was wearing a look of concern, however, he was wearing a frown, which was quite the contrary.

"You know, you _could_ take off that hat —"

"Why would I do that?" she said quickly, staring into the depths of his eyes. He hesitated before he stood up.

"Why? _Why_? Because it's raining — and you've got _cuts_ on your arm —"

"Courtesy of you," she added under her breath, fortunate that Red didn't react when he heard that.

"You've got a _sprain _— and even when you sleep you wear that stupid ha —" Red cut short, screaming in pain, sitting back down again when he got up angrily, lying against the wall, holding his arm around his foot. Yellow didn't have time to react.

"Red? Wh-what's happen —" Before she had finished her own sentence, she suddenly remembered she had a sprain and there goes her idea of getting up. Instead, she crawled over to Red, careful not to injure her leg so much, and leaned against the wall, sitting next to him.

"Lemme fix that," she murmured, and Red pulled the left side of his pants to knee length and there, bleeding, revealed a very deep scratch that cut across his skin about five inches. Yellow gave a small gasp of horror and found herself staring at it; it was _frothing_. . .

"Hold — hold on, I'm just gonna. . ." She automatically flexed her hand, two inches over the cut, and closed her eyes. She had to keep her mind set, everything in the world must be concentration, and all must be silent — her heart was beating against her chest wildly, and she waited for some kind of stimuli —

She finally felt it: Red's nerves were moving around his body as an action of stimuli of her own. She settled her position and breathed deeply.

Red watched, horrified, at the phenomenon. His deep and long cut, which he saw wasn't so clear because there was light coming from Yellow's hand, was almost miraculously tying itself epidermis by epidermis until it finally sealed the wound, and no drop of blood was left dry when Yellow retreated her hand.

"What — the —"

"I have healed it," she said, opening her eyes, feeling cool and calm, lying against the cave wall again. Then she remembered something. While she still had Red's attention, she stood up, looking at him with such determination Red was left still gaping.

"You told me," she jabbed her thumb on her chest gently, daring to move her amber-brown eyes toward his own crimson-red ones. "that a true friend will always be there for you, and is entirely sincere at what they tell you. Friends — that's the bond between two people that snaps and everything is in place. But you told me that pokémon are friends as well. Friends can be influenced by their friends, and so it is with pokémon. But if you love and care for them with a good heart, then they'll always be your friends. . . I'm sorry."

Red watched her closely, his confusion wavering, replaced by solemnity. What was she trying to tell him?

Yellow took a deep breath and continued, "I have not been entirely honest with you. And it practically _kills_ me every day. Green and Bill already know — but you don't. I cannot live my life faking as your friend — I am not that, no way. I am not a hypocrite. It has been hard for me to hide the truth from you — truly, because you're one of the two best friends I've ever had. Green and you and I — we're friends. We're all freaks who've got weird powers; but what's so bad about it? Everyone else say 'abnormal' is a bad thing. Look at Einstein, and he's successful. But what's so bad about being a friend . . . is not being entirely honest with yours."

She clutched to her hat, looking at her knees instead, because she couldn't bear looking at him anymore.

"I'm not who you think I am, Red. . ."

She took off her straw hat, threw it aside, and ran her ten fingers through her wet hair — her ponytail fell down and stopped falling when her hair's tip reached her waist — it was a long time since she took off her straw hat without worrying about who might see her.

There was a strong gust of wind from behind, and lightning flashed before her — Red's eyes widened. Yellow's silhouette had appeared before him — and it all fell into pieces — her long hair was being blustered by the wind, wet by the rain —

"Oh my God. . ."


	20. Another Battle in the Midst of the First

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**I'm too bored to say anything. I'm so sorry that it's been a whole MONTH since I've posted anything. September's a real busy month for me. **_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**MoonLightObsidianZanpakto19: Total. Epic. Ness. Coming. YES! Oh, YES! This chapter is dedicated to EVERYONE who's been expecting SpecialShipping to come. So, thanks! You deserve more than two slices of cakes! XD**_

_**Tigrun: Thanks! =) Slice of cake?**_

_**SplitHeart1120: It took him longer in the manga, though =P How thick could the guy's head get? 3 years? I mean, Yellow's got to be thirteen then! Oh, well — ce la vie, boys will be boys, and I will be me; vanilla or chocolate?**_

_**XXX: EXACTLY! THAT'S WHAT I WANTED! EVERYTHING YOU'VE SAID WILL ALL BE INCLUDED! (Except for the 'underwear' thing, I've added too much explicit things already =P) The blackout thing's pretty much the first thing that came inside my mind when I've decided I'll write a story of Mirage Island! Thanks for the other suggestions, though! That review's worth THREE cones of ice cream! XD I'd eat it myself if I weren't so stuffed XP**_

_**Hoshiko x Magic: Thanks for loving it! I really am hurrying up to continue this! XD You're worth a slice of cake! =D**_

**YaysoulX3: **_**Thanks! I instantly like you, too! X3**__**I think you're last to comment on the very day I'll post this! Okay! Ice cream for you! XD**_

**ME: **_**Just go and read the story. My head's KILLING me. Oh, and postscript, this chapter will be told in Red's point of view, since things would get a little spicier =) What do you think? Awkwardness beats cheekiness? Well — I think both are best in THIS chapter XD Though I the beginning, it gets a little . . . misplaced, I guess? But the Specialshipping thing might slow down the story, that's why I didn't put it in the beginning. I just can't put the 'action' into the 'moment,' it's almost cliché. So I've decided that, for my sake and for yours (because you'll have to read the story a bit longer,) I will put Special in the resolution of the chapter, and at the middle, the action. Got that?**_

**YELLOW: **_**Nicole-chan! Isn't it your birthday on the 9**__**th**__** of this month?**_

**ME: **_**Good Lord, I forgot!**_

**GOLD: **_**You forgot your own **_birthday_**? O.O**_

**ME: **_**I do that every year — I don't take my birthday into much account, anyway. It's just another day. (SHRUGS) =/ I'm not a party girl, so I neither like nor dislike parties.**_

**YELLOW: **_**What'd your parents give you for a birthday present?**_

**ME: **_**Nothing yet. **_

**YELLOW: **_**That's awful! They'll ruin your birthday!**_

**ME: **_**Actually, they're still bombarding me with questions of what I'd like as a gift. But not a week before that, I told them I'd want a guitar tuner this Sunday. You know what they told me? IT'S EXPENSIVE! I mean, come on! Only Php 1,500! And Dad was looking for a watch that same day that was worth more than Php 10,000! Every year they give me useless gifts more than the amount of the guitar tuner. So you could just imagine how I've felt that day ='(**_

**GOLD: **_**Then what the hell is THIS? (HOLDS UP MY TUNER)**_

**ME: **_**Oh, they gave in. Oh, and everybody who liked me gave me GIFTS. Sweet, but. . . OKAY, THIS IS GETTING AWKWARD. ON WITH THE STORY, PLEASE. But I'd like to say that I regret to make the start of the chapter a little misplaced =(**_

**19****th**** CHAPTER: ANOTHER BATTLE IN THE MIDST OF THE FIRST ONE**

**SAME TIME, SAME NIGHT**

**LOG SIX**

"**O**h my God. . ." Red breathed, taking a few feet back using his hands until his back was against the cave wall, looking horrified.

The darkness engulfed the entire cave again, except the portion where the light of the cackling fire had lit, which was sizzling now. Thunder could be heard a few seconds after the lightning and Yellow found herself soaking wet again at the entrance of the cave, the rain pounding against the roof of it.

Her breathing was faster than it already was, and she felt her entire body numb — her brain wasn't working at all. The shock and surprise of Red was sympathy for her enough. Some sympathy _that_ was. . . She didn't like to see what expression etched Red's face: on the contrary, she'd hate it if she did. She wanted to sit down, and go over to the corner and fall asleep, and everything would be all right when she'll wake up. But this isn't a dream — it wasn't even a nightmare. It was even worse than that, Mirage Island was like hell.

"You — you —"

"Yeah," she said shortly, predicting awkwardness.

"All this time —?"

"I was definitely a girl the whole time," she said, making every one of her sentences short. Red stared at her.

"Green knew? You told that idiot and not me?" he said, pointing at himself, sounding a little hurt and very confused, darting his eyes to the darkness vaguely. Yellow's heart sank. She was afraid this would happen. . .

Red managed to stand up to his full height, though bending a little because the cave was a bit smaller. Yellow shuffled her feet anxiously and waited for the worst to happen. The wind blew by stronger than before and her over shirt — the thing she always wears over her turtleneck, which would be hereby abbreviated as that — fluttered, and her hair, too, was being blown, even by its weight — it was sopping wet — though Red looked worse than she did.

"H-he sort of figured everything out," she said, looking up at Red frantically, who was a head taller than her.

"And Bill?" he said with uncertainty.

"Green told him," she said hurriedly, trying her best not to drag Green or Bill into the subject. She didn't want Red to be mad at the both of them. Red frowned a little.

"But you didn't tell me the whole week you've been here?" Red demanded, taking a step or two, his eyes starting to glow dangerously scarlet. Yellow stood her ground this time, frowning a little, though in the inside, she was trembling. The rumours had to be true about Red's unusual temper, which was the effect of handling the Red Jewel.

"I thought you'd at least feel awkward about some things, but certainly _not_ furious, considering about your behavior and mine —"

"What're you talking about?" Red said, turning a brilliant shade of maroon, looking as though he knew exactly what she meant, though Yellow thought she might have imagined seeing the glint in his eyes fade. She, too, however, was blushing furiously.

Mixed with rage, defiance and embarrassment, she retreated half a step and said, "I didn't even _have_ a girlfriend! Whose pair of '_that thing_' did you _think_ you play with? It's like you wanted to play with it more when you've realized that it wasn't mine —"

To her utter surprise, Red's face was pure maroon, but the reason she cut her sentence short was that she was acting so jealously. Red, on the other hand, noticed the dark shade of crimson Yellow was turning — he also noticed how flustered she was when she reached her blushing peak — and took this opportunity to retort, no matter how scorching hot his face was getting.

"How the hell would I know that was yours?" he said, feeling his stupidity rise. Did that sentence make him sound stupider? Suddenly, though, he felt blood rushing from his nose and sniffled a little so that Yellow won't see how _uncomfortable_ he was getting. Yellow thrust her hands in the air frustratingly, the wind blowing from outside so strongly, it found its way inside and her hair was suddenly so wet.

"You've treated me like I'm a —"

"Like what?" he snapped angrily, though quite relieved that the subject had been changed because he thought his nose wouldn't hold so much blood for long.

Yellow suddenly sneezed out of cold. She rubbed the portion of her face above her upper lip and below her nostrils with her thumb — which Gold had made her do a habit of doing — and didn't even move when the wind blew so powerfully that it brought the rain in its direction. Red's rage and anger was immediately replaced by pity and sheepishness.

"Come in! You shouldn't be out in the rain!" he said, holding out a hand and advancing a little forward. Yellow seemed to hesitate on holding his hand — Red's heart leapt high, and he felt his fingers twitch when Yellow looked behind her shoulder anxiously. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "What?"

"I think the rain's clearing up," she said almost inaudibly, staring at the forest with such interest. Red squinted his eyes: it looked dense and the rain was pounding harder. What the —?

"Are you mental? It's just rained harder!" he said, though he forced himself to not feel bothered by raising his voice in front of a _girl_, but hasn't he already raised his voice more than one occasion in front of Yellow? Being with a girl is so hard. . . Yellow, untainted and looking as though she was so used to it, stared into the depths of the forest and disregarded him.

Why was it so hard to please somebody? Or at _least_ make somebody move a little. It's for _their_ sake, anyway. He's never been with a girl before — not even since he was seven; and that was _ten_ years ago. Red's only felt this way because he just knew that Yellow was a girl — then again, when was _he_ ever good with girls? He could recall when he was in kindergarten the day of Valentines he'd received more than three cards from different classmates and was harassed with chocolates. He'd answered to all of the kids that gave him a valentine and they've just ended up crying!

"Rain's cleared up," Yellow mumbled in the same tone of voice she used the sentence before. Red looked at her incredulously, and then glanced up at the sky — his jaw nearly dropped: she was right. The rain was already clearing up, and the usual warm atmosphere had returned. He looked behind his shoulder, trying to see if the fire they started had already been put out, but it wasn't yet. He stood up, thinking his sneakers were battered and worn-out already, and stepped on the cackling fire before it gave a low hiss and died out.

"Y'know," said Red, trying to bring up another conversation so that he wouldn't sound like a complete idiot, "I've got to hand it to you, you could hide your hair —"

"We should get out now," said Yellow, still ignoring him, making to stand up, and not even waiting for Red. Red felt his worst fears confirm — what the hell? When has he ever felt this way? He could very well be one of the unluckiest blokes in the world to have ended a heated argument with her.

"Wh — wait up!" he said, putting on his jacket hurriedly, literally scrambling for appropriate words that won't end up with Yellow ignoring him longer. "I've just found ourselves shelter and you go running —"

To his surprise, Yellow stopped walking suddenly. He caught up with her and held her by the shoulder, shaking her.

"Mate — I mean, Yellow, what's wrong?" said Red, smart enough to have hesitated in voicing his thoughts. Yellow felt sheepishness course through her veins and didn't dare look at Red and remained rooted at the spot silently. Blinking back tears, she tried to act brave for once and shook her head.

"I — I can't — I mean — I'm sorry," she mumbled, sounding embarrassed and looking fixedly at her knees. Red shuffled his feet as if he was embarrassed and didn't say anything. He seemed to have been very cautious. . .

"D-don't be — er, why are you sorry?" said Red.

Yellow stifled a giggle. Red's having a lot of trouble processing things as what they already are since she revealed to him her ponytail. She wiped a single tear from her eye and turned on the spot to face him, beaming brightly. Red, who was recently becoming more and more clueless — a thing that Yellow didn't expect would happen — frowned childishly and in indignance.

"So?" Red said, kind of irritated — and looking more frustratingly clueless — with one of his eyebrows raised so high that it was hidden under his bangs. "I'm not gonna accept your apology if you won't tell me why you're sorry."

"I'm — I'm sorry," she said, smiling still, slightly embarrassed, "because I haven't told you I'm a girl."

"We — well," said Red, clearly not expecting that, before an awkward — for him, that is. Yellow was just beaming up at him like a small 4th Grader looking up at a teacher — silence. After a few seconds, it seemed as if he were the only one feeling uncomfortable about this all. When has anyone ever made him so nervous as this? There was something about Yellow that made him feel this way . . . but what the bloody hell was it?

Surely — _surely_ — nothing was going to change. Boy or girl, Red liked Yellow for being his friend no matter what gender she is . . . right? Maybe they should just stay as friends — being unclose to each other might just make things a bit more awkward.

"How about let's talk while getting back, shall we?" she said, her thumb pointing east. Red gave a feeble nod and dug his hands deep in his pockets — a habit usually Green had but Red seemed to have taken a sudden wont of it — and followed Yellow, who was waiting for him 4 yards away, almost reluctantly. Then something occurred to Yellow when she darted her eyes from Red and the cavern. . .

"Oh, damn!" she said, wheeling around and stumbling to run faster. She ran sideways so as to not bump into Red and continued running straightly after advancing a few steps from him ("What the —? You're going back _inside_?")

She slid on the rocky cave floor, almost on the once living fire which is now ashes of the twigs, before she gave way to get what she came in again for —

"Got it!" she cried, sitting on a position, patting her straw hat fondly. She suddenly heard footsteps while she put her hat on, drying her soaking wet hair with both her hands.

"What the _hell_ was that for?" She knew at once, before she even decided to turn around, that it was Red. Still in her sitting position, she hung her head and beamed up at his frowning face.

"Oh, hi, Red!" she exclaimed brightly, still smiling. Red looked at her incredulously and put his hands on his waist just as her uncle did whenever he 'explodes' — a term Blue always put it.

"You're kidding, right?" said Red as she made to get up, inserting her hair into her hat carefully, walking out the cave. He looked at her direction disbelievingly, throwing his hands in the air. That girl. . . He's never seen anyone quite like her, even_ if_ the last time he's seen a girl was 10 years ago. Has she forgotten everything in just a few _seconds_? He wasn't going mad, was he?

"I'm not kidding in what way?" asked Yellow at the front of the entrance of the cave, waiting. Red heaved a sigh, closing his eyes to be quite sure that he wasn't dreaming. He wished this was, truly. When he opened them, however, he raised his head to look at her instead of the cavern rocks. She took off her hat again, drying her hair with her bare hands, smiling brightly at him. Her eyes were staring deep into his and Red vice versa — he'd only realized then that her eyes were of deep, amber-brown. . . Yellow — almost breaking Red out of his trail of thought — jerked a few strands of hair from her eyes. He also just became conscious that she always jerked a few bangs from her face. . .

Red suddenly felt heat rising up his cheeks at the mere thought and found himself gaping.

Yellow, unaware of anything, bent over and put her straw hat on her head before inserting her ponytail into it, in an air of someone pleasantly humming to themselves. Though despite she was feeling so light and float, she was truly deep in thought.

Red finally knew her secret in the midst of everything — literally, after _everything_. . . But why was she feeling so — what was that word? Happy? Strange? Fond, was it? — No, _used_ to this all? Maybe it was the freedom which she could finally take off her hat anytime anywhere Red's around. . . But there was another air to it, though, a weird one. It could be that she won't lie to anyone anymore. . . No, that's still not it.

"Not kidding in a 'you-forgot-everything-in-a-matter-of-seconds' way," said Red, after the pause, sounding as though he used this sentence more than once already. At these words, Yellow felt her eyes bulge and her heart skip a beat.

"Oh, right," she said, looking at her knees as she shuffled her feet. "S-so, let's talk while getting back, that's what I've said. . . Yeah, I think that'll do us good."

"Yup," said Red, digging his hands deep in his pockets, approaching Yellow almost in spite of himself. "Green'd be real worried when we'd get back —"

Green — that rang a bell —

"GREEN!" she shrieked, suddenly remembering something — that bloody prat left her when Red was searching for the both of them. "I'm gonna kill that —"

"Hold on," said Red, looking as though he was pondering about something. Scratching his chin, he came to a halt a few steps away from Yellow. He turned his heel and faced her, "I thought he's been with you earlier."

"Well, he ran away when he heard you come out of the woods!" Yellow exploded, outraged. She stomped her foot on the ground, hard, and glared at Red, though she was clearly mad with Green. "I don't know why, but he did! He must've thought that there were other people around the area —"

"No," said Red softly. So softly, Yellow thought that he spoke in his own account, more to himself than to her — he was thinking out loud. He rarely even thinks about something before doing it let alone aloud. She stared at him, her anger ebbing away and being replaced by confusion and the utmost of curiosity. "Green's not like that."

"Y-yes, but —"

"He's mental," said Red suddenly, his eyes bulging. This . . . was certainly freaking Yellow out right now. This wasn't quite like Red. His usual rash and irrational nature was absent, and was substituted by a lucid and thoughtful one. Yellow took a step forward, intending to ask Red what was going on exactly when Red made up his mind to speak at that time. "Yellow — we've got to hurry."

"Wha — why?"

"You've told me there was this storm, right? You predicted that the storm would pass in a few seconds' time — how did you do that?"

Yeah, how _did_ she do that? Suddenly, Red's unusual eye colour turned scarlet again, and all the while he spoke, his canines were growing — Yellow took a smart step back and pressed herself against the cave wall.

"I don't know — but. . . You've detected the storm even before it approached . . . haven't you?" whispered Yellow softly, a realization occurring to her. Terror invaded her brain and her blood coursed through her veins faster. This was one of the times she'd wished she was very, very wrong. . . "That's why you came to get Green and me. . ."

Yellow stopped dead when she noticed that Red was trembling madly. He was looking at his hands, shocked, and there was some kind of aura that was emitting around his whole shaking body. Red suddenly collapsed on all fours, still trembling as though there was an earthquake, shaking so violently his cap had come off to the ground. Shouting with rage and frustration — or what seemed like it — Red dug his nails deep to the ground. All the while he was screaming loudly — as though in pain — Yellow couldn't help but stare at the transformation of his canines into fangs. . .

Yellow watched, horrified, at the sight — what was happening? This wasn't normal. . . There was something wrong going on . . . something suspicious.

Red gave a loud scream, and he seemed to have had a problem trying to keep his eyes closed — Yellow thought that he had a sort of battle with himself on will. And she did nothing. A sort of red aura was starting to emit a glow from Red's hand — which was pressed against the cave floor — as though they were snakelike threads that sprouted a new one each time its first encircles his body. Watching it alone seemed like watching The Exorcist. . .

"Red — what's happening?" she asked, taking a step forward cautiously. Still vibrating mad, Red gave a shrill shout and lowered his head a little before Yellow, realizing too late that he wasn't listening to her, pressed herself against the cave wall again, shocked and panicky. What was she going to do? Run? Leave him behind? Or just wait and see what will happen and do nothing? Questions of the like flooded inside Yellow's brain, and she was so focused on what to do, she noticed, a little too late, Red stopped trembling.

He just kneeled still, crouched on all fours, gasping for breath — there was a quick moment when Red's eyes had momentarily lost its gleam and turned back to its normal unusual colour that Yellow perceived almost hurriedly. His fangs had shrunk as well, and he was no longer shouting in pain or agony, but panting for breath. Though this was the only noise that was being heard, Yellow can't help but feel as though her eardrums were pounding.

Peeping timidly and slightly leaning a little to the left, she glanced at Red's face upside down to see if he was still having a fit: quite the contrary and much to her relief, Red wasn't looking as though someone was killing him anymore. But he was looking dead-exhausted. . . He gave a shuddering gasp as Yellow slid against the wall, hugging her knees.

"What will I have to do to get some answers around here. . ." said Yellow in a mock-frustrated voice; however she really was tired of not knowing a lot of things. Considering this serious statement, Red gave a quiet moan of both exhaustion and pain before he cornered himself against a wall, breathing heavily, his eyes darting distractedly from one thing to another whereas Yellow observed every inch of his face with curiosity and interest.

Red, with much difficulty and enervate effort, managed to get up with his sagging knees, hanging his head backwards against the wall, closing his eyes.

"We — we've got to — got to —"

"Got to what?" said Yellow, adjusting her belt bag. She had the nagging impression that Red was now more talking to himself than to anyone at all.

Red took a deep breath — which seemed to have turned to be more of a grunt — before he closed his eyes, gritting his teeth so as to soothe the pain a little. "We've got to get to Green."

"What?" said Yellow, her eyes popping. Did he hit himself hard? "You're mental. Do you honestly have an idea where he is?"

"Yes — yeah," said Red, looking as though he was considering something for a moment before he looked down fixedly at the floor, gulping. He frowned, his eyebrows shot down so low they were lower than the upper portion of his eyes. Yellow looked at him, dumbfounded. Was he serious? Could he really know where Green had suddenly run off to?

"Green — he said that he could . . . sense someone coming earlier . . . before you came out into the clearing," said Yellow slowly, realizing something. Red said nothing yet. He closed his eyes and waited for the worst to happen. Yellow pushed herself further. "He sensed _you_. But don't you think that — after being friends with him all the while — he'd notice the difference between sensing you and others?"

Yellow waited for Red's answer patiently, eyeing him almost solemnly. She was so sure there was something happening. Green must've known it was Red, nobody else. . . He might have been hiding something from him . . . Or some_one_. But could it be. . . ? It seemed impossible, but. . . Could Green be hiding something from Red — something he didn't need him to know? Or, perhaps, something he didn't _want_ him to know? The both of them stood at a distance from each other, each of them unabsorbed in their own thoughts but waiting for the other to speak. When Red didn't reply, she continued.

"Is there . . . something you've figured out that Green's been hiding from you — something that has to do with you screaming and all?" she said, her voice trembling. "And now you know, you won't tell m-me . . . right?"

"It's got nothing to do with you," Red snapped angrily, although Yellow can't help but pay more attention to his cracking voice and his trembling body; he was nervous about something. "Anyway — we've got to get to Green."

"Where do you think he'll be?" asked Yellow, trying to keep the 'stimuli' from the subject. To her surprise that her simple plan worked, Red replied almost as quick as the question finished.

"I think he'll be at the Ample Plain Forest," he said, looking up at the entrance of the cave to the West. Yellow threw him a puzzled look.

"S-so — we're changing course?" she squeaked, her eyes bulging when she realized Red was packing up his things so that they would start to embark out of the cave to their destination. She packed up her things as well and adjusted her straw hat a few seconds before Red, who seemed as though he were ignoring her, stood up and made to leave.

"Yeah, we are," said Red, already a fair few yards away from Yellow's current position. Yellow tried her hardest to catch up with him, literally running. When she caught up, Red wasn't speaking yet. She puffed up her cheeks and blew the air, trying to control herself from being angry with him. Instead, she just dug her hands in her pockets and bit her tongue from speaking, looking at the ground fixedly: it was muddy, obviously, and her mauve boots were not so 'mauve' anymore — because it was smeared with mud, which was a sort of murky brown — and she tried her best as to not pay much attention to herself whilst walking beside _Red_.

Not that she felt self-conscious whenever he was around . . . It's just for another reason . . . And it's not like she _liked_ him as _not_ as a friend. . . Good God — when she came to think of it, she was _always_ self-conscious whenever Red or Green was around!

At times, she missed a few things because she was too busy thinking either about something associated with someone or too busy thinking of how things went like that —

Red stopped suddenly, looking around. Yellow halted as well. He was looking at the sky with such solemnity that Yellow was sure he was reading the stars. He shifted his feet and stepped on a small stone. Red nearly jumped when he heard it crack. Maybe he was being a little too edgy. . . But why?

"Are we close to where Green's supposed to be?" said Yellow, pulling her hands from her pockets and hugging herself — it was so cold. When did the temperature drop so fast? It was so quick she didn't even notice? Red looked at her in a way that made her look back at him curiously.

"I think so," he said, grimacing. Then he looked behind his shoulder — there were trees behind where he stood and bushes surrounding each of them — as though he was suspecting something will happen: apparently, again. When he turned his head toward Yellow again, he smiled a little.

"Let's keep going."

Yellow did nothing but nod stiffly, still staring suspiciously at the spot where Red was looking at apprehensively just now. When Red motioned for her to move on, she grimaced a bit before walking beside him.

There was something really strange around here . . . Something that seemed to not want — even hate — Red and Yellow's presence in the forest. And _it_ was _following_ them.

That . . . was something Yellow could be precisely sure of. Nobody could be too sure of something, but Yellow felt so certain that there was something following them. . . And there was this nagging possibility that it could be some_one_. Once or twice, she's heard the unmistakable sound of dripping; though she didn't have the courage to tell Red because that might just make her sound as though she's nothing but a hypocrite.

Anyways, it could all just be her imagination. She knew that watching Drag Me To Hell was such a bad idea before going to sleep when she was just 12. . . She remembered that day all too well. Blue started the television — they were in Miss I-Hate-Television's — AKA Sapphire's — house. They were trying to persuade her that television isn't all that bad. Chris was very, very, _very_ disagreeable on the matter as well. Yellow, who had nothing else to do for fun that birthday of Sapphire's, shrugged. Blue was very ecstatic and instructed her to get the popcorn. Soon, the movie started. They closed all the windows—and the atmosphere was just like in the forest she was in right now — and turned on the AC — to get the draft of coolness that's uncannily like the breeze today — before they started the movie. . . Yellow couldn't even count the many times she's screamed that day. . .

But that was just a movie. . . This is reality. A reality where everything is so possible, it seems as though it were fiction. . . Is there a reality as such? In the pokémon world, yes. And fiction was the only thing Yellow was worried about right now. Anything can happen. And if so, even death at the very last second. . .

"It's getting too cold 'round here," said Red, after a while of walking down the trail in silence, shivering. Yellow snapped out of her thoughts and blinked, finding herself staring at nothing in particular. She stopped her tracks and looked around the place, also shivering a little: it must have been already past 6 o'clock. After surveying the forest trail a little, Yellow hurried following Red.

"I know what you mean," she muttered, staring suspiciously at a spot in the bushes where she thought she just saw something glint. There was a fraction of a second when she thought she might have imagined it when it rustled. She stopped her tracks again. This time, Red noticed. He halted as well, glaring at the trail.

Yellow pressed her back against Red's — even though it was a little uncomfortable — and glared at the bushes whereas Red, on the other hand, made to reach for his pokéballs attached to his belt. There wasn't anything there . . . except for a trail of streak of blood. Yellow's eyes widened and she was about to scream when Red cuffed his hand over her mouth.

"That's . . . blood," said Red, examining the trail, shocked and puzzled at the same time. He didn't move from his position the slightest, but bent a little so he could get a clear view of it. Yellow stared at it, horrified. She felt herself trembling even though Red was just behind her shoulder. Red looked at her, puzzled, and as though there was a tone of accusation in his voice, he said, "You're not having your perio —"

"I'm not!" Yellow screeched, feeling her face grow hot at the thought, and embarrassment wasn't the only reason her face was turning maroon. Gritting her teeth from being angry with Red, she tried to pay more attention to the mysterious trail of blood. He was saying as though it were a simple thing that undergoes every month. . . As though she wasn't feeling any pain of it —

"I guess I've no reason for running away like that, huh?"

Yellow gave a loud, shuddering gasp. She cuffed her mouth with both her hands and trembled with fear as a dark figure staggered nearer. She gasped, yes, but not out of horror, but of shock. Her left hand found its way instinctively to Red's right and she gripped tightly around it. Red felt Yellow trembling, and he stood there, shocked, his mouth agape with horror.

"It's true that I sensed Red — but you don't know why I escaped. And it's not because of him."

"Wha — how — what happened to y-you?" said Red in a trembling voice. Even he couldn't talk straight with shaking. Yellow seemed to have lost her voice, and she dared not find it right now. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before the dark figure gave another step from the bushes, into the silvery spot where there was little moonlight, but enough to see his bloody face. Yellow felt Red stir beside her, but she didn't do anything out of shock.

"I'm . . . sorry," the dark figure croaked, turning to Yellow, his eyes barely open with the weight of the blood that was dripping down his forehead. She blinked several times. He stretched out his hand to her and Yellow, doing nothing out of fright, let him be. His cold hand, which was the only part of him that wasn't covered with blood, stroked her hair, ruffling it fondly. Even in the moonlight, even when he was covered in blood, even though his eyes were barely open, Yellow could still see the emerald glint it always had — he wasn't angry. She suddenly felt Red stir again beside her.

"Where the hell did you go, then?" Red demanded hoarsely, looking at the bloody figure. The figure's hand hesitated for a second, and then he pulled it back. Yellow grimaced and squinted her eyes a little.

He gave a slight cough and straightened himself in his standing position — though he was still limping and slouching.

"Away . . . from the beach," he croaked, barely audible. Yellow blinked back tears because looking at Green's state alone was making her feel somehow sympathetic: he was barely even standing because his left foot was limp—and, by the looks of it, bitten by something — his jeans were really torn — and his skin underneath the garment was very bloody so that it looked like it wasn't skin at all — and there were scratches and scars that stretched across his chest — his hair was damp — not with water — but with _blood_ — the same blood that blocked his right eye. He looked even worse than he did at dinner the last week. He ran away from the beach. . .

"Don't tell me you've sensed something!" exclaimed Red loudly, his voice echoing in the dark forest. "Not the storm, right? There was a clear sky earlier!"

Come to think of it, Red was inside the forest nearby the shore of the beach. How should he know? He's been there for a long time, according to him. Yellow looked at Red, then back at Green. The clouds closed in while she and Green were in the training session. . . Green sensed someone nearby in the bushes, and then, for a split-second, Yellow thought he looked behind his shoulder and _then_ he hurried to the forest. . . _Recall_. . . _Recall. . . _

"You didn't sense anything else than three things, have you, Green?" said Yellow slowly, understanding things a little better now that she came to think and remember all the events that have happened in the quickest span of time — she spoke for the first time since. Red looked at her, puzzled. He looked more clueless and denser than ever, a possibility Yellow never expected to happen. She knew something he didn't, and Green did, too, which left Red at a daze. He was the only one missing something.

Green heaved a sigh, and he swayed back and forth — he was starting to lose focus. Yellow hesitated on helping him up before he collapses but he swung his hand to the nearest tree to the left and pushed himself back to place. His right hand wiped the streak of blood that was starting to drip down his chin before he straightened himself to speak, "I. . . I have."

"What?" said Red, his eyes bulging. "What is it, then? Is it something that suddenly — ah!"

His expression became suddenly aware and somewhat more surprised than ever — but he didn't look as though he didn't know anything. He was suddenly trembling out of fear, and Yellow could just figure out that this was a bad thing . . . but there was a sort of odd atmosphere that surrounded the three of them in the forest that told her that this wasn't something that happened every day.

She whipped around and saw that the leaves were rustling in the dark night, and that the wind was howling so loudly that she barely heard the rustling. Trembling, Red borrowed Yellow's shoulder and his trembling was passed on to her instead: she could feel his breath at a quick pace, and she couldn't help but wonder why he was feeling so nervous.

_What could be so terrifying to make Red tremble?_

At the silence that loomed at the three of them, Yellow took the opportunity to think. . . There was this short moment earlier that _did_ make him tremble and fall to his knees. . . Putting everything piece and piece together, Yellow already found out why Red was so —

"It's not . . . it's not that pokémon . . . or could it be?" whispered Red, his eyes literally jumping up and down his eyeballs. Had the situation not been so serious and the atmosphere so tense, Yellow would have laughed then and there. He was trembling so madly, she could feel his shaking grow greater than ever. She hasn't seen him so nervous before. Not like this. But . . . there was this time a little earlier when he was trembling and he literally fell to his knees. A pokémon . . .

It couldn't be Celebi, could it? It seemed as though it were the type of pokémon to not travel time every week — time was too precious. . . It can't be wasted. . . But a pokémon has its own kind of personality. And Celebi had all the power it could to travel, so . . . why not? Though when she come to think of it . . . It was the pokémon that nearly destroyed Green. . . Although Green's condition _now_ . . . this was too much.

"You mean Celebi?" asked Yellow, cuffing her hands over her mouth. Green slowly shook his head, disapproving almost irately. Red retreated his hand from her shoulder, rubbing it.

"No. . ." he whispered hoarsely. Yellow stared at him, almost glaring. "Something bigger."

"Some — there's something _bigger_?" repeated Yellow, her voice echoing in the wind at the night. Red's hair was being whipped by the wind so that it hid his expression.

"There's another battle going on," said Green, his breathing slow. He leaned against the tree, watching the both of their expressions. "There's a reason behind everything. Yellow; you came to the island because there was this Autumn storm, right? And that's when Celebi will time-travel; every 3-and-a-half months, it's the reason behind all the storms."

Yellow tried to jag her memory. There was this article in the news about a sudden change of water torrent in Slateport that flowed in the direction of Pacifidlog. . . That was where they landed in because of the storm and the torrent. She did nothing but nod at Green, who continued.

"There's this . . . kind of reaction an individual who had touched one of the Jewels has every time the reason for the very existence of the Jewels."

"So because of that 'reaction,'" Yellow made quotation marks in the air exasperatedly, "you turned into _this_?"

Green gulped. "Not exactly, no. Actually, the reason for the very existence of the Jewels makes us really aggressive. I've detected it already. . ."

He massaged his throbbing head and closed his eyes. "It's about 5 miles from here. It's the pokémon that responds only to the Blue Jewel. I've touched the Blue Jewel. That's why I'm more . . . _aggressive_ than Red was, I guess, while he was reacting."

"And . . . what exactly is the reason for the existence of the Jewels?" Yellow said, trembling, avoiding everyone's eyes. Green took a deep breath, while Red bit his lip: he, too, was trembling.

"It's the ancient pokémon, Kyogre."


	21. Rayquaza

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**I think I've left you guys in ANOTHER cliffhanger. I'm real sorry, guys. Look — I've updated earlier now! =E **_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**SplitHeart1120: Yep. I'll explain pretty soon.**__**There're a little misplacements in here. Green's injuries weren't there by coincidence. And they're NOT there because Kyogre did it to him, to be quite clear. And thanks for asking! I haven't actually explained it in the last chapter . . . So, in short — I forgot =P My mistake as an author. So. . . ! Cupcakes and ice cream sandwiches of the flavour of your choice =)**_

_**Moonlight Obsidian Frost Zanpakto19: Thanks! More EPICNESS coming your way soon! That means a LOT to me, coming from you. I'd want to give out a spoiler, but nah. . . Ice cream? **_

_**YaysoulX3: Aww, you guys are so sweet! More power to all of you who've given reviews and feedback! SPEAKING OF SWEET, I think you'd want a taste of my favourite cake, CHOCO MOUSSE! ^-^**_

_**XXX: Thanks a bunch! Hahaha, oh well, I guess. . . Thanks for the pasta, too! I love pasta! It's a tradition in Philippines to eat pasta on birthdays! Thanks! Oh, and here's the leftover cupcakes at my birthday ^-^**_

**ME: **_**Well, now that that's over, I could start the story now! Anyway — I'm trying my hardest to solve all the pieces and match all the puzzles together and tie all the loose ends before this story is all over. This, my friends, is just the CLIMAX. And yes, more chapters to come, I've decided. And all the characters have their own ending, as I've come to make a conclusion —**_

**GOLD: **_**WAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!**_

**RED: **_**What the —**_

**YELLOW: **_**What's the matter, Gold-chan? _**_

**GOLD: **_**Aren't you gonna tell me my ending? =( **_

**ME: **_**Of course! You're one of my main characters, you know!**_

**GOLD:**_** (MUTTERS) I'm one of the ONLY named characters. Even that bartender can be a main character.**_

**ME: **_**And you're gonna appear in a short scene in the first setting of the chapter!**_

**GOLD: **_**Really? (JUMPS)**_

**ME: **_**Of course! I made a promise, haven't I? But I'll tell you ONE little spoiler: I HAVEN'T DECIDED WHETHER ONE OF THEM **_SHOULD_** DIE. **_

**YELLOW: **_**WHAT? O.O**_

**GOLD: **_**You're kidding! You're trying to tell us that you have something in mind for this story that involves someone DYING? -_o**_

**ME: **_**I honestly AM. But it shouldn't be Red, Green, and Yellow nor should it be Bill X3 Nor it should be Gold, obviously, for an afterthought.**_

**RED: **_**Thank God — but you haven't mentioned Professor Oak .o**_

**ME: **_**Exactly. He's one of the characters I'm deciding whom should die =P I'm creating a poll over it on my account =P**_

**20****th**** CHAPTER: RAYQUAZA**

**SAME TIME, SAME SETTING**

**LOG SEVEN: DAY THIRTY-FOUR IN MIRAGE ISLAND**

**TIME: ****00:07**

**A** few miles off the coast of Mirage Island in a manner of speaking _once_ it _was_ on the Pillar Island, the night of Pacifidlog was treacherous. There was wind blowing in the direction of East, and the currents the storm was making had never looked so deadly — Water-Type pokémon jumped out of the water and literally swam away from the torrents.

At the edge of a huge boulder that rested in the sand under the sea, a small, cautious little pokémon of the sort, with its ends curved, has stumbled upon a whirlpool, wet and weary; it's tired with swimming away from the perfidious waters.

The small pokémon whipped its curved fins and pushed itself to its final limits — the best it could reach was within half a yard from the current — but the rain had exhausted it with all the weight, and it was forced to give itself up and surrender itself to the next life, closing its eyes, awaiting its final breath —

But before it could even open its eyes, something scooped it up and it caught its breath, daring to believe its luck.

"Gotcha!"

A spunky, dark-haired youth at the coast of the island caught his pokéball, soaked and wet with the rain. He gave a soft moan, clutching his injured ankle, dropping to his knees. He took off the bandages, which were, too, wet, and took a glance at his injury. He gave a small chuckle that was cross between pity and frustration: that looked like a wound that'll never heal soon. . . He put the pokéball on the sandy ground, almost forgetting about it, along with the other pokéballs in a pile, while he was too busy wrapping the bandage over his wound again.

"Uncle Wilton! I've got it!" he said, tying the bandages into a tight knot — he didn't even look up when he said it. It's been a whole month and a few days since his cousin had been lost, and it's his job to stay alive and wait for her to come back. . . At least that's his uncle's plan, anyway.

Uncle Wilton looked out of the window of the small, two-roomed hut, squinting his eyes and putting his hand over them. "Good! Now come the hell inside so that you won't get wetter than you already are!"

Gold rolled his eyes. His mum won't know, anyway, and his uncle won't tell her (he hoped.) He wiped his wet face, and he rolled up his sleeves, standing up to his full height and carrying the pile of pokéballs with both of his hands.

He turned to the direction of the small hut, whipping his wet hair backwards, and strode there with an air of someone walking to work. Once he was on the old, torn mat that had words barely legible — the 'WELCOME' read 'V_l ColV E' — he kicked open the door and took his sneakers off while inside.

His uncle appeared at the doorway — literally, the doorway, because it looked like the door was pulled from its place — and Gold handed the pile of pokéballs to him, after which, he stood straight, and put his hands behind his back while he tried to crack it right back, stretching.

"S'that all?" he said, frowning, after he counted the number of pokéballs Gold piled. Gold shot back up like a rocket, facing his uncle's back while he shouted after him.

"Is that all? _Is that all_? You try saving pokémon in the storm without your favourite goggles and cue!" Gold snapped, his neck turning red. Uncle Wilton shrugged; he's still not looking at Gold when he entered the living room — or it's therefore called _Dying Room_ because of its lack of liveliness — and stood on tiptoe so as to reach the top of the shelf to put the pile of pokéballs there.

Gold bawled his fists, which were positioned at his hips, yet he hadn't planned any action to do anything. His uncle was such an ingrate. He wouldn't say that if Yellow was the one who'd rescued the pokémon, now would he? After all, Gold was just in their house for the summer, though his was just a few blocks from theirs. What would his mum say now? Nah, she needn't know, Gold considered. He flexed his arms behind his back and wheeled around, humming the melody "Deer in the Headlights" to himself.

Uncle Wilton wasn't one to pick a favourite as well. He treasured each and every one of his niece and nephews just the same. But Gold — Gold heaved a loud, mock-exasperated sigh to no one in particular — he was something Uncle Wilton never saw before. . . That reminded him. . .

"Damn," Gold muttered, massaging his head after hitting the wall, plopping down the couch, which was right next to it. He was thinking too much. A thing Yellow usually does while _he_ was the man of action. Now with Yellow gone. . . He hung his head backwards, then forward, shaking it. Who was he kidding? He needed his cousin. Now with her gone, he couldn't do anything but wait. Wait for her — wait till she gets back, like Barty said.

Unless Yellow doesn't — he gulped — survive there. . .

Gold suddenly felt a rush of wind that made his spine wiggle.

He glanced at the window, squinting, and standing with his socks on the couch, holding the couch's body for balance — the wind was blowing inside and the rain was starting to get in. That happened nowadays. Cursing under his breath, Gold jumped off the sofa as though he were skateboarding and landed on the creaking, wooden floor to dash forward and to close the window.

"Eesh, it's getting a little cold in here," he said to himself, hoping that his purple pokémon, Ataro, was nearby already. He poked his head outside, feeling the cold wind and the icy water hit his face again, searching for his furry little partner: he wasn't close yet. Gold had retreated back his head inside the huge window, thinking: that was strange. Usually, Ataro was early in coming back here.

The cool gust blew inside and the raindrops fell on the floor mat — which, by the way, was the only one that seemed modern in the entire two-roomed hut — and he decided it would be best if he'd close the window right _now_, thinking that Ataro should knock at the door if he needed to come inside from foraging coconuts. He put the small lock over the hook and took a step backward, watching the bamboo window being blundered by the wind and rain outside.

"That's some storm. . ."

Gold wheeled around, expecting someone with a bad intention, but he found there, leaning at the doorway — literally, the doorway, there was only one door in the hut and that's the one that you first see of the hut — was Barty.

His long beard had run down his entire body and seemed to be longer than his own short height, and though his eyes were closed — even as he walked with his crane, he still kept them closed and God knows how he knew where he was going — Gold saw, between his eyelids and his eye bugs, his cerulean-blue eyes: they stroke through his and it felt so piercing, he blinked a fair few times just to not get flashed from them. Barty's hands were behind his back, though Gold can't help but feel as though he was about to reach for his crane and walk toward him.

"Oh. It's you," he said, grimacing. He sat back on the couch, sighing, but after he heard the unmistakable sounds of muffled, hurrying footsteps, he felt something _huge_ whack him hard on the head.

"Bloody hell, old man!" he yelled, getting up — he rubbed his throbbing head with his left hand after he pulled his hat off with his right, throwing it on the floor, stepping on it. When he opened his eyes — he closed them because it was really painful — however, the old man wasn't in front of him. Gritting his teeth, he wheeled around — there he was: Gold expected him to be grinning mischievously, but, on the contrary to his prediction, he was frowning at him, with his crane held. Suddenly, the pieces fell together on what _seemed_ to be a thorough investigation to Gold

"You hit me with that walking stick!" he bellowed, pointing at his own head. Unexpectedly, the old man whacked him hard on the head again — but Gold never dared to expect that he would jump just to tower his own height — hell, he didn't even know he could still _run_, let alone _jump_.

"What's the big — HEY! STOP THAT!"

Barty kept on whacking Gold's head with a stick — it seemed to never end.

"STOP WHACKING ME, YOU FLITHY BLEEDER!" Gold went on, flapping his arms wildly — he was trying to grab the damn stick, but it was so fast he didn't even know where it was going. He had his one eye closed, and his other open just to get a clear view of what the hell was going on. The old man was good —

"Not until you stop swearing, young man!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. Gold seized his chance to find his weakness and took the opportunity to grab the stick when the old man paused to talk — surprisingly, it took him two hands just to stop the crane from trembling: the old man's grip was real tight; he's not letting the stupid stick go so easily. And neither was Gold. . .

"Crap," Gold muttered as the crane was slipping from his grip from his wet hands — he glanced down at Barty. What the hell? He was standing on the arm of the couch — Gold's eyes widened: Barty's eyes were wide open, and he was staring deeply into Gold's — for a split of a second, Gold thought that he was in the control of the old man. . .

Gold shook his head, finding his senses. He gripped the stick with all his might and, surprisingly, even to himself, the crane slipped from his grip and it flew in the air. He glanced at Barty; he was looking as though he was just about to jump and get it —

"My crane!" said Barty, staring at it while it fell to the ground. Gold took one step backward and Barty, losing his balance, fell on the ground as well, face-first. He snickered nastily. Gold flexed his arms behind his head and, whistling pleasantly, bent down the floor to pick up the stick, closing his eyes mockingly as he wheeled around.

"Haha, now I've got your stick," he taunted maliciously, raising the stick above his head. Victory was his — _finally_. He flexed his arms again and rested his wrists on the crane, his right near at the end, and his left near the handle: his position was of a child with his head stuck in front of the monkey bar. "Now why'd ya hit me?"

Barty's head shot up from the dusty carpet and Gold was surprised he himself hadn't flinched when he noticed what Barty looked like: a pharaoh which has been mummified and had been stripped from his bandages — oh well, Gold shrugged, the crane, which was sitting above both his shoulders with both ends, his wrists still wrapping themselves lazily around the circumference of the thin crane, dragging upwards, the old man _could_ use an improvement to his looks, anyway.

The old man pushed himself up and stood on both his feet, standing to his full height — Gold raised a lazy eyebrow: he was already a foot taller than Barty. That's one _short_ old man. . . Though Barty seemed to frown unpleasantly and his wrinkles had, somehow, drooped over every inch of his bony face, Gold didn't find this at all intimidating, but, however, _ugly_.

"You treat your elders with respect!" Barty shrieked at the top of his lungs — Gold frowned, bending to Barty's height as he leaned forward so that he was only a few inches from his bewildered face, "So what if I don't?"

Barty shot him a nasty look that was supposed to make him look threatening, but, in Gold's point of view's honesty, it just made him look more hideous.

Gold disregarded this _greatly_.

"Anyway — have you seen my Ataro?" asked Gold through gritted teeth, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Barty. Barty stared blankly at him.

"You mean that irritant purple, little friend you have?" spat Barty — now _that_ was intimidating; Gold retreated and stood on his full height, but kept his cool as he pulled both his arms back to position and swung the crane forward forcefully so that it was in front of Barty's face a few centimeters — so forcefully, Barty almost cringed.

"Yeah, that bloke," said Gold mischievously, smirking as he handled the sick with one hand with lethargy and idleness, though he swore to himself not to let the old man get his hands on it: He wouldn't want another _sticky_ situation. Barty had to cross his eyes just to be sure that the crane wasn't poking any of them: Gold nudged the stick a little further, and Barty pressed himself against the wall, still cross-eyed. "You seen him?"

"B — b — b — I haven't been paying — _watch where you point that thing_!" sputtered Barty sharply, as Gold moved the stick down to the crotch of his — what was that thing he's wearing called again? — Ah, yes, _toga_. Gold sneered maliciously and moved it upwards again, and once it reached his stomach, he poked the tip of the crane on his bellybutton: Barty was trembling with laughter but he refused to even chuckle.

"Come on, don't lie," said Gold, frowning now. He circled the tip of the crane a circumference around Barty's bellybutton: Barty gave a giggle. "Watch it, old man. That's gonna get worse the longer the time you won't tell me where the hell you've seen my precious pokémon."

"I — swear — I — haven't — seen — it —" Barty managed to say between laughs. Gold scowled. Suddenly, he heard the thunder roar and the door swing open — since there was only one door in the two-room hut, he already knew where its location was — followed by the bellowing wind, and the unmistakable sound of rain pit-pattering on the wooden floor. Gold dropped the crane to the carpet, ignored Barty's small wince of pain — because he _might_ have hit him in the stomach before he clattered it — and bolted to the entrance of the living room, nearly sliding: there, at the entrance, the one who'd opened the door, had been his pokémon, Ataro, wet and sniveling.

"Ataro!" he cried, rushing to his pet and hugging him — the feel of his soft fur; he missed it — but it wasn't the same with him wet, but at least he was okay. He pulled him back, beaming, and he pushed back his hair, asking him as he saw his upset face, "What took you so long?"

Ataro gave him a grimace. Gold's smile faltered instantly: he wasn't crying because he had a runny nose. . . he was crying because he was depressed. . . but why?

"Ataro? Ataro, boy, what happened?" Gold murmured to him, his voice cracking. Ataro shook his head and his long, tail pointed outside: Gold squinted his eyes, standing up —

What he saw made the hair behind his neck stand on end. . . The blood in his nerves came to a stop, and made a pit stop at his brain, clogging it: his head felt so heavy now. . . His eyes widened as he saw the sight before him — there, beneath the storm, under the cloudy, dark sky was . . . !

* * *

><p>"K-Kyog — what are you talking about?" Yellow said in disbelief, looking from Red's sullen expression to Green's: they knew something she didn't, and it was obviously something she was missing — something big. Green had to be lying, he was seriously injured and he was making up nonsense on how he got to that condition? But the problem is . . . when had Green ever lied to her? He's told her every question she threw at him — though he hasn't told her quite everything: there were still some things she's never known, and some questions she'd never thought she'd ask them — if she didn't know what was going on, why should she ask something she didn't even know?<p>

The weather was getting worse and worse — though Yellow doubted the three of them even _cared _— the trees were being blown by the ferocious wind; the whole forest was wailing — and sometimes, Yellow could have heard the distinctive sound of pokémon howling in the night since she and Red got out of the cave — it certainly _was_ the time of midnight: but Yellow wished that she was certain about everything else.

"I'm not lying," Green said, his breathing slow and loud. Yellow stared at him, her expression not changing. He's read her mind . . . she forgot about that. She had to be honest with him, or else he'd think she was a hypocrite and frankly, he's the only person she's been honest with throughout her whole stay in Mirage Island. He seems to be able to weasel anyone out of anything . . . like some kind of police.

Red looked from Yellow to Green, his expression defiant with rising vigilance; At the corner of Yellow's eye, she thought she saw Red's teeth bare out, and she tore her eyes from Green to look at Red instead — Green broke his gaze from watching her face and decided he should watch Red as well. He was fidgeting, from the looks of it, and he seemed hesitant on telling the both of them something. Yellow bit her lower lip.

"Red? Is there something wrong?" she whispered softly, making to move from her position. He raised a hand, glaring at the moon. Yellow instinctively took one step backward, her eyes bulging: the first thing that came to her mind when she noticed Red's alertness was the thought of him becoming a werewolf — Yellow now felt stupid to have thought of that — but when his actions reminded her of something, she suddenly remembered.

She looked up, grabbed Green by his bloody, wounded arm so tightly; she also felt his hand go numb. She focused her attention on his eyes: he looked at her, his eyes widening: she was thinking the same thing he was — of _course_, he can read minds — Green can sense emotions . . . and Red can sense danger —

"What is it, mate?" he said suddenly, reaching out his right hand to Red — Red was shivering — no . . . he was trembling. It must be really bad. . . Yellow made to go over as well, but Green took one step backward and thrust his bloody arm in front of her stomach so that she should remain rooted at her spot. She stared at him, bewildered. He must be mental —

"He's finally sensing it," breathed Green quietly. Yellow felt her temper rising — which has maintained this level since she's arrived in Mirage Island because of Red's denseness — and her blood began to run normally again.

"You haven't told me everything yet," she muttered quietly, frowning. She sensed Green's head turn her direction and she instinctively looked away, just to avoid his eyes. She focused her attention on Red now. "Red — what is it? What're you —?"

Red craned his neck upwards, taking one step forward in the moonlight, where the trees weren't able to shade the shine — and in the darkness, Yellow saw, what Red probably didn't expect her to see, being too busy with something, that his eyes were glowing the same blood-scarlet shade it always had whenever he was angry. She nervously took one step backward, clumsily tripping over a small rock when Green caught her with both arms — of course, he was too weak to support her, had he been in full health supporting her would have been easy — and the both of them stumbled on the forest floor, covered in blood.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Green!" Yellow stuttered, trying to stand up — she could even feel Green's blood stick to her shirt on the back and didn't even bother to check it; there were worse matters now that were more significant than that. Green gave a soft moan from behind her as she looked over her shoulder to check if he was okay — he seemed breathable, though he had trouble trying to stand up. Yellow glanced back at Red, who was now still as a dog who had caught scent of its prey — she turned back to Green and helped him stand up with both of her hands.

"Red's sensed something, I know it," Yellow said, more directly to herself than to Green, bending down to help him balance as he slowly made progress in standing, her hands soaked in Green's blood. Now that his blood stuck to the back of her shirt, Green was almost clean of his; though his scars and cuts were visible under his shirt, now that the blood had been . . . er, _taken _away. The _least_ length of his cut had been _3_ inches long. . . Could Celebi do this to him over and over again? It didn't seem to be the type of pokémon to —

"LOOK!" Green yelled, finally standing up, pointing his finger over Yellow's shoulder — Yellow turned around and found that Red — who most probably broke his stance and finally decided to do something about it — had gotten to his feet and was crouched down, almost on all fours — he was breathing heavily, his arms were limp at the sides of each of his jeans — his right arm on the right side of his jeans and so on with the left — and he was in a sort of position in which his right foot was bent forward, and his left slightly bent forward, though not as much as his right — and he looked — there was no other word for it, and, quite frankly, this was the only word that fit Red in Yellow's opinion, whom was terrified — _disturbing_.

His blood-scarlet eyes were darting from side to side — he seemed to have been looking for something and was obviously not himself — like a crazed maniac, almost larger than usual, even though his eyes were now slits. The atmosphere of the forest seemed to have changed in an instant; almost as though it responded to Red's — well — _transformation_. The trees weren't as they seemed; they were howling, Yellow was sure of it. She's lived in Viridian Forest — near it — and was certain that this was out of the ordinary. The wind carried the cries of the forest pokémon a long way, and Red suddenly shot his head up, alert.

"Yellow," said Green's voice behind her — inching towards her, he carefully approached her without surprising her so as to not alarm Red. Yellow felt his fingers wrap around her wrist slowly and his grip soon tightened — but she wasn't paying attention to him alone. Her eyes were on Red only, and he seemed to have behaved less . . . human, she's observed. . . What was happening? "When Red experiences this. . ."

Red made a sudden movement, turning his head to the right, suspicious of the howling wind howling in Green and Yellow's direction — she felt her straw hat being fluttered away and used her right hand to clutch on to it — but it seemed that how tight she was going to grip on her straw hat didn't matter to Yellow much right now — she was listening carefully to Green while observing Red's inhuman actions. . . He was too busy staring at the forest behind him, he completely — Yellow's stomach gave a small, unsettling lurch and her heart seemed to have sunk — forgot her and Green.

Green seized this opportunity to approach behind Yellow with ease — he was now behind her when she took one step behind that he knew to mean she was listening to him. He cautiously, shyly, moved his mouth behind her ear — he didn't want her to get wet with his blood.

"He senses the alternate of Kyogre," breathed Green softly in her ear, finishing his sentence at last — Yellow felt her knees droop. Alternate — alternate of Kyogre — Red Jewel — Green's got the Blue Jewel — Red's ironically got the Red Jewel — Climate — something about climate — third pokémon. . . The third pokemon of the trio. . . Mortal enemy — never-ending fight. . .

_Kyogre is the pokémon . . . pokémon that dwells in the sea. . . Can make silent waters into roaring waves . . . has the power to destruct an entire colony of corals. . . _

Yellow racked her brains to recall the rest of the description, literally, closing her eyes forcefully just to remember. . . Green's told her his story — she has to remember. . .

Alternate . . . alternate of Kyogre . . . Contrary. . .

Something flashed in Yellow's mind's eye, and Green's voice inside her head rang.

_The two legendary pokémon — Groudon and Kyogre — have this effect on the climate once they go to an area. Kyogre, bringing forth the clouds together and creating a storm following it in its search for its mortal enemy Groudon to continue its never-ending fight, whose power is contrary of Kyogre's, bringing the heat of the sun with it wherever it walks on earth; drilling from the earth and creating heat waves that could reach up to 87 degrees Celsius. The only thing that would calm these two astonishing pokémon is the third of its trio, Rayquaza [Rey-kwey-zuh], the Sky Pokémon, who lives in the atmosphere, and can be summoned in several ways. _

"Groudon," Yellow breathed softly, a realization occurring inside her mind; Groudon — it was the pokémon that lived under the earth, the ground — it could cause heat waves that reached up to 87 degrees. . . It was the mortal enemy of its alternative, Kyogre — they have been in battle for long years, and up to now, they still have the same rivalry — Groudon . . . can be controlled by the Red Jewel. Beside her, she felt Green stir uneasily — and abruptly. Yellow could suddenly recall what Green had shouted at the both of them after they got out of the Refectory. . .

_He's turned me into a monster. . ._

Her eyes widened — looking up from her absentminded gaze at the dark, forest ground, she glanced at Red, who has been bathed in the moonlight — his blood-scarlet eyes reflected it, and he was in the same position as he was then, though he seemed to have been more mellow now — this was it — Red had been scampering around the area like a mental lunatic — hell, even like a _pokémon_ — and he had no concern whatsoever for herself and Green — Red was behaving as Green had described himself — a _monster_ that only appears once it's reacted to an ancient pokémon. . .

"Green —" she breathed slowly — she couldn't say anything much, what with her heart trying to kill her like it always had every now and then since she's arrived in Mirage Island — she gripped her hand around Green's arm so tightly, she thought she heard him wince, but she disregarded that: there were more matters to discuss. . . "What's Red to become . . . if this keeps on?"

Trembling, Yellow gripped Green's other arm for support, watching Red's frantic, alert movements with dread and fear as she waited for his answer, not able to continue further. Red — she's known him like a best friend for such a short time, she's only felt that this life was indignant for her for knowing him a little while only. . . Green, as well. . . They were the best friends Yellow's ever had. Green gave a small, chilling sigh behind her neck — something cold ran down her spine as he did — and he didn't immediately answer to this question. Yellow had the impression that he wasn't fully paying attention to Red at all — but he was looking at the ground to avoid anybody's eyes.

"We're going to wait," said Green finally — and this reply came so unexpected and far from Yellow's prospects Yellow literally spaced out and felt a psychological, huge weight on the head — she gave a jerk that looked like a sudden, eager nod and looked over her shoulder to look at Green's emotionless, serious expression, away from Red's frantic movements.

"Eh?"

Being in Green's tight grasp, she couldn't move from her position and only struggled to get out of his strong grip — wait for _what_, she thought almost despairingly, because she didn't have a single clue as to what the hell he was starting to talk about — feeling that she was missing something, she waited for his answer — trying to look as patient as she should be, and not to struggle helplessly, but failed in both attempts — Green darted his focused eyes from Red to her, solemn.

"He's on a frantic search — the Red Jewel — it's responding to something from outside this area and it's getting closer by the minute," said Green — Yellow thought he wanted to say everything in every smallest detail possible quickly — if not impatiently; his eyes were now back on Red again, and Yellow followed his gaze, unsure of herself, and at the time she finally knew why — her heart stopped pumping blood and has fluttered in the air, and her stomach dropped so low she thought it's already left her body and had clattered on the ground — Red has collapsed on the forest floor, curled in a ball, and was writhing in pain so loudly, everything around him has stopped: even the wind has stopped howling.

Yellow made to move forward, taking one eager step forward — her boot even had dug itself firmly on the muddy ground — but Green, despite his wounds and cuts, despite that he was even behind her before she made a sudden movement toward Red, had already moved before her and was by now two steps ahead of her — Yellow thought she caught his eyes glint cerulean while he ran past her — but this time, unlike those other times, she didn't stop her tracks — she sprinted faster and followed Green, who still was two steps ahead, fifty yards away from Red.

Yellow, who was in such a hurry, had to jump four feet each hasty stride just to get to Red in the fastest manner possible, determined to outrun Green this time — but he was still hot on his tracks and the both of them ended up tying in reaching the writhing Red. Yellow dropped to her knees — which felt like jelly all of a sudden — and reached out a trembling, cautious hand to try and help Red almost immediately after she kneeled down, almost recklessly — Green suddenly held out his and slapped hers.

Yellow winced and retreated back her hand, nearly forgetting Red was there and accidentally hit his arm with her hand but disregarded that. "What was that for?"

She massaged her now throbbing hand with her hand opposite and looked at it piteously; it was turning maroon. Biting her lower lip, she turned from her hand to Green — her expression changed almost instantly. She was glaring at him. Then she looked down at Red and her opposite and safe hand twitched in hesitating to help him out: writhing, groaning and gasping, his eyes closed, Red looked as though he were having a nightmare in his deepest sleeps.

Green didn't immediately respond to Yellow's question, and remained silent, looking thoughtful — his eyes had never left Red, but despite Red looked like he was in real pain, in agony, and was suffering, he hasn't done anything yet, which made Yellow wonder even more curiously as to why he still hasn't done any further action for this. She, too, hasn't made any further movement — in mixed feelings for anxiousness in being slapped again and in worry for what she'll do to Red recklessly.

"Don't tell me we've got to wait for this to stop," Yellow said abruptly, a realization occurring to her, trembling — the thought itself carried unhealthy and chilling possibilities. . .

Because Green didn't immediately answer, Yellow already had the impression that they would wait for Red's writhing to stop — silence means yes, after all. But Green's always been reticent, so maybe —

"What can we even do about it . . .?" Green muttered almost inaudibly, analysing the situation thoroughly — but alas, he's got nothing. Green's remark came out longer than Yellow'd expected, she's given up in supposing that he _would_ speak, but when he did, Yellow gave a small splutter, scrambling for words, staring at Red's now gasping body.

"WHAT? By then, he'll die!" she managed to say, her voice nearly cracking — tears began to form in her eyes and she blinked them back: she was going to stay strong. Strong for Red. When Green made no comment — or he might have ignored her, much to her anger, because he still hasn't locked his eyes with her — Yellow turned away from him: she didn't need Green. Who cares about him, anyway? But she didn't even know what to do yet, or how to act.

She only found herself staring at Red — he was now still and silent, and his eyes were closed for some reason — his teeth were still bared, but he didn't show any movement of aggression: he just laid still there, despite that his uncontrollable vibrating stopped — his hair, laid on the ground that looked like it's been rained on and has suddenly dried up in the matter of minutes, had scattered across his eyes, and he showed no signs of life or twitching. Red just laid there, his body motionless and curled up in a ball. His hat had fallen on the ground a few inches from his hair — Red might've cared if he hasn't gone ballistic all of a sudden . . . or if he was still — every nerve in Yellow's body stopped and she gulped — alive.

Green, who suddenly rose from his position in the corner, and who had apparently came out of his reverie, reached out a careful hand and kneeled down beside Red's hand — he was checking his pulse — something leapt out of Yellow's chambers and seemed to not come back there again — there was this certain possibility that Green, too, however taciturn and silent all the while, despite being motionless, thought he was dead. Green, who was always so sharp — the one who'd always crack a case — the silent, but knowing — who had a close mind — who always had hope somewhere in that cold heart — even thought Red was dead. It's seemed like the end of the world in Yellow's mind right now. . .

"He's still alive," murmured Green, with a hint of mild surprise, after a pregnant pause that seemed to be like an eternity. . . He was alive — Red's still alive — he hasn't had a heart failure or anything — he's _alive_. Yellow's mind's eye had suddenly seen a Red, healthy and sane again, who was sitting like a dog on the floor in front of her, still and silent, but looking hopefully playful — and she's imagined herself trying to instruct him to fetch a stick.

"He's still _alive_? — I mean, what's he gonna be like when he wakes up?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly — he could be anything. . . Yellow stared at Red's unconscious body, frowning: he was breathing already — not that he _wasn't_ breathing — but more tense and hoarse than it's already been. Yet, she still felt something aching within her; it seemed more than sympathy. . . She felt Green stir uncharacteristically beside her, almost trying to shake her awake from her short reverie. Yellow rose from her position and turned to face Green — her eyes locked with his.

"I think," Green breathed, looking as though he had suddenly felt tense under the direction of Yellow's gaze upon his emerald-green eyes: his blood-strewn hair had almost covered his eyes, "that he should be back to normal — but that doesn't mean he'd forget what he's sensed."

Yellow stared at Green — she wanted to tell him to help her carry Red up to the dorm — or just simply support him up — but seeing as he, too, looked injured, she wanted to cancel that idea out — however, before she even asked him — her mouth was wide open then — Red's left sneaker had twitched at the corner of her eye, and she was left with her splutter cut short — he was moving; Red was awake —

Red blinked. He was lying down the floor, he concluded — his other eye was pressed against the muddy forest floor and he noticed a little early that his hat wasn't sitting on his head anymore — it must be around somewhere — but enough about that. He can't feel his bones. . . He could only barely move his hand — his hand . . . it was lying on the ground a few inches from his face.

He sniffed the air feebly a little.

Unmistakably, the scent of melon and strawberries filled his nostrils: that must have meant that Yellow was nearby. But what with every inch of his body motionless and throbbing, he couldn't control himself enough to even sit up.

He wasn't seeing much. . . The vision was pretty blurry: everything seemed to be moving. Back and forth — pan up, pan down. . . Yet Red was sure that every second counted — his vision was clearing: finally, he could be very sure that he was lying on the ground, the right side of his face pressed in the ground — his body had suddenly became lucid and controllable: he tested his reflexes and controllability with his left foot — sure enough, he felt it land on the ground.

"He's moved again!" exclaimed a voice Red had no trouble recognizing from the tone alone — excited and happy-go-lucky: yep, it had to be Yellow. Red gave a weary and exhausted, but reactionary motion that was supposed to be lifting him up: he only ended up landed on the ground again — apparently, he can't speak because he still can't control his mouth.

"What's the idiot doing?" asked Yellow, scowling now, watching as Red gave his own feeble attempts to lift himself up silently. Red cursed Yellow silently under his breath — if only he could speak. . .

"He's having trouble trying to control his nervous system," clarified Green calmly — but if Yellow had replayed his sentence over and over again, she was so sure that there was a slight tone of annoyance there. She smiled slightly — she's finally thought out why he was always so sullen. Yellow tilted her head a little so that she'll be able to look at Green's expression.

Green hastily looked in the other direction: apparently, she's already forgotten about Red. Well — he's got his wish now: she's finally diverting her attention to him — but trouble is Yellow's already figured him out.

"What?" he said, regretting what he wanted to happen — he was so sure that her amber-brown eyes were upon him. Turn away now — turn away now —

"You're not. . ."

"I'm not," snapped Green — though he thought she heard his tetchy tone crack. Behind him, Yellow was smirking.

"You've experienced this and you're too upset to even think about it!" said Yellow in such a dignified, imprudent voice not unlike Red's was whenever he _thought_ he's figured something out — sure enough, when Green turned around, relieved that Yellow's attained a head that's got a density of thicker than a 9-foot thick cement wall, she was wearing a smirk almost precisely like Red's. "You may be cold in the outside, but you're really sensitive in the inside!"

Whether it was Green's destiny to end up with dense people, he didn't even know anymore. He was just fortunate that both of his friends ended up denser than the earth's core, but it gets puzzling because he'll be the only one knowing something. Well, at least Yellow was smarter than Red, that's a start. . .

Green was about to say something when the both of them heard something muffle — Yellow turned her gaze from Green and her eyes widened — Green, of course, had only seen the right side of her face. He'd guessed Red can already control his senses back, he didn't even need to look.

Yellow could now see the mud that was covering Red's right side of his body — leaves, twigs and dry dust had also been attached to his clothes — all the while Red had been scampering around the area like a pokémon. . . all the while he'd pressed his face against the ground — he'd developed scars. . .and cuts; they were uncannily alike to the ones Green had. . . Come to think of it — Red had been biting himself, she'd recalled. . . Her eyes swivelled to his left hand: it had scars which were all half a centimetre deep — and it slashed across his elbow to the tip of his thumb; blood travelled disturbingly downward, dripping. So . . . !

She turned to Green, horror-struck — he didn't get all his injuries while he was attacked by Celebi — Green must have scratched and bit himself while he lost control — losing control of his nervous system — the Red and Blue Jewels were reacting to the presence of Groudon and Kyogre both and had most probably taken control of Red and Green's bodies —

"I sensed more than Groudon, Green," breathed Red steadily. Yellow was now watching him in such terror Red gave a slight chuckle in spite of himself — a chuckle that turned out to be, what seemed to be like to Yellow, cross between a groan and a sigh before a choke. He disregarded this so abruptly when he realized the situation because he turned to Green, looking more solemn. "It's there. On the small island — _Rayquaza_."

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: **_**Just so you know, guys, I don't read cliff-hangers too much. So why do I keep ending these chapters in one? I know, I know — you hate suspense as well, I get it — too much suspense will make you wonder what the ruddy heck happened just because the author's forgotten to write how and why. But that's life, and everyone's got a point of view —**_

"HOLD ON A BLOODY MOMENT!" shrieked Yellow, puzzlement and pure comprehension dawned across her face mixed with rage — because nobody in here tells her what the hell is going on nowadays and she just hates feeling like an idiot because she still doesn't get it — and terror — since both of her companies in the deep dark forest were badly injured — and, the last expression she didn't even expect was to mix with the solution, reproachfulness — for she had just shouted at the Red, whom had just injured himself greatly.

Red raised his eyebrows with difficulty — Yellow turned to him, her eyes overlarge, with an air of someone trying to explain something in panic. "No, don't try to explain — GREEN!"

She turned her heel and faced Green with such aggression and determination to know something. Green just simply did nothing and looked mildly surprised by this: Yellow had suddenly remembered that he, too, was in the same condition Red had been in and lowered her voice a little.

"How'd you get like this?" she asked softly, locking eyes with him. When she understood that he didn't seem to be able to speak at this moment, she went on, "Your condition looks much more serious than Red's —"

"I . . . ran into Celebi in the forest after I had a fit with myself," Green said carelessly. Yellow's jaw dropped open. Looking as though he hadn't seen anything, Green continued, "It obviously still had our last fight in its mind — it took revenge and I still wasn't in the mood to fight — or in the condition. So . . . Yeah, you've guessed it," Green added, smiling a little in spite of himself, staring at Yellow's amber-brown eyes. "After that, it just sort of . . . took off, I guess — I was left under a tree. Good thing too, because there was this storm."

"Red said something about Rayquaza," said Yellow slowly, after giving Red a small, apologetic smile. He smiled back, although there was still a sign of apology there as well — so they obviously were exchanging diffident smiles.

"Yeah — I guess it's landed on the island you've been at, so that could be a problem."

**AUTHOR'S THIRD NOTE**

**ME: _Aww, you guys should've KNOWN I didn't want another chapter to end that way! =) Oh, well. . . See ya later! =P_**


	22. The Discovery

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**I really can't wait for our school's intramurals o It's like heaven on earth!**_

**YELLOW: **_**You're excited to FOLKDANCE?**_

**ME: **_**Well. . . No (AFTERTHOUGHT)**_

_**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**_

_**XXX: Thanks! O.O Yeah, and I'm making a few more chapters that are cut in half that shows what Gold's been up to, and what Yellow is as well! I mean, come on, he's perverse and all, but you just gotta love him =P At least we'll have a few laughs in here — I mean, Red's brain capacity is like, you know. . . XP And thanks for reviewing! One slice of cake of your choice X3**_

_**SplitHeart1120: ONE of them. Yeah! It's nice to see someone who gets on quite quickly! I'm impressed! Four cupcakes!**_

_**Moonlit Obsidian Frost Zanpakto19: Uh-huh. Pretty much question-and-answer, but it includes the LEGENDS! Ice cream cake?**_

_**YaysoulX3: And Gold's gonna come back with a great spot in the limelight! (MOONWALKS) You just gotta love that guy =) Minus the perverse part =P And yep, Rayquaza's gonna be a real big part in this story! So — how many cones would you like? X3**_

**ME: **_**I'm not excited about folkdance — no way, I HATE dancing — but the Chess Tournament is pretty nice to try as well as the Softball mini league — oh, and also the Ping-Pong ^_^**_

**GOLD: **_**I thought you told me you weren't SPORTY o.O**_

**ME: **_**I'm not! **_

**GOLD: **_**Then how come you've signed up for ALL these?**_

**ME: **_**Can't hurt to try, can it? (SHRUGS)**_

**21****st**** CHAPTER: A DISCOVERY**

**DORMITORIES**

**LOG SEVEN: DAY THIRTY-FIVE IN MIRAGE ISLAND**

**TIME: 2:36 **

"**I** can't say that I don't believe you," mumbled Yellow in a hurt voice — she slowly placed the cloth she was holding in her left hand — her right was holding another one — into the water in the small washbowl; after that, she dabbed the cloth against Red's wounds that streaked across his forehead whilst absentmindedly rubbing the cloth held in her right hand against Green's lips. Green gave a grunt that sounded like a moan — Yellow turned to him, her eyebrows raised, and was surprised that her cloth had reached his mouth when it should be dabbing itself on his ear. "Sorry," she said, and before Green could even utter his reply, she turned back to Red.

"But it's a complete different point," she continued, sighing indignantly. She dropped her gaze from Red, whom she knew was listening but whom she knew would also take a while to answer, and stared at her lap. He looked really solemn and coldly thoughtful — he didn't seem to want to listen to her, but he must hear her out: he's her friend. He just needed time to think first. Yellow really wanted to go back home right now— has anyone ever thought that one moment, their life was normal, and the next, everything didn't seem to be right: it's like a different kind of reality that she's always feared. The reality that she dreaded.

She missed everyone right now. Hell, she might have even missed Barty.

"I know, I know," said Red, frowning slightly — somehow, he looked rather more childish — no, child-_like_, quite the contrast of what he looked earlier. He was still not looking at Yellow, but he knew she was right, Yellow concluded. She didn't move from her spot, and continued scrubbing Green's forehead absentmindedly — she still hadn't dropped her gaze from her lap as well.

"But. . . I still don't get it," said Yellow with a tone of a mixture of guilt and exasperation — and, somehow, sadness. She heard Red let out a slight groan, but she continued anyway, as if she didn't hear anything, "You sensed that Groudon was near — but how can it? I mean — oh, sorry," she said, cutting across herself, casting Green an apologetic expression, for she had just wiped his eyelids accidentally. Green snatched the cloth from her hand irritably and mopped it on his wounds himself. She turned back to Red. "We're in _Mirage Island_! Time's mixed and it's been banished from the very fabric of the normal space of Hoenn! And _you've_ said that there isn't any other way to get to Mirage Island other than travelling time — unless it's the final day!" she exclaimed to Green again, looking very frantic.

Then she averted her gaze back to Red before she let Green speak. "Kyogre's out there somewhere as well. I know it — Green's sensed it. But the both of them got to be somewhere else doing their own business before they decided to get a vacation here! And where the hell were they before they decided to go here?"

Green heaved a sigh — apparently, he was annoyed by the fact that Yellow still hasn't understood anything at all. Yellow immediately swore to herself that she should shut up and not try to be so irritable. She couldn't help it; Mirage Island's functions were more confusing. She even had to do math just to calculate the time she's going to return back to Hoenn — and, much to more complications and struggles, they'll end up at the Northern East of Hoenn, not where the island's picked her up from.

Red just shrugged simply. "They've to be _anywhere_, for all I give a damn. The Red and Blue Jewels do the action by taking control of our senses. You see? They'd react to the two ancient pokémon. So _we_ react to the two ancient pokémon, since the Jewels are inside us."

"B-b-but," stuttered Yellow — that's the whole point? But what about the point before that? "Why can't you just take the Jewels from inside you?"

"That was different," Green said roughly — but he showed no signs of — Yellow felt relief wash down her body — aggression and force, not anymore, which was sort of a good thing. Yellow turned to face him; he was mopping his face with the cloth and had just glanced away when Yellow faced his side of the bed. Maybe she did something wrong? Whether she did, the result would differ; Green's actions were above usual nowadays. "And besides, we've got to keep the Jewels inside us — their power would remain the same and will linger even if we force them out. . . And. . ."

Green fidgeted uncomfortably then. He didn't seem like he wanted to continue. Behind Yellow, she felt Red's breath tingle her neck and didn't have to wheel around to know he, too, was eyeing Green apprehensively. She suddenly heard his tongue click, and felt herself wincing.

"That's not the only reason why we keep the Jewels inside us," breathed Red — another chill ran down Yellow's spine that made her want to move a little far from Red, but that might just make him suspicious, even for a dense bloke like him. Instead, she forced herself to look up just to avoid his breath running down her neck again; as predicted, he leaned backward, looking sheepish, but continued all the same. "We — Green and I — just practice on forcing them out. For reasons yet to be known, though — and we've got a hunch that someone else is looking for the Jewels."

"What d'you mean?" said Yellow, her voice hollow; someone was after them. . . Someone they've got to least suspect it'd be — so that meant. . . "So you mean to say that the students in Crescens don't only hate the both of you for rising a rebellion on Professor Oak —"

"It's not a resistance, it's a sort of disagreement," snapped Green, who had just suddenly shot his head up.

"Right — well, they're jealous too, aren't they?" Yellow said hurriedly — she felt her heart rise from her chest again, and it hurt too much to speak, she tried to talk as fast as she could so that she'd be left with at least a grain of stamina. Before Red had even spoken, Yellow wanted to go on, "Professor-Oak-said-that-there-were-a-lot-of-students-who'd-want-to-be-chosen-to-keep-the-Jewels! So when you broke in his study, you had nothing to do about that! You've touched them!"

Red cringed — Yellow realized too late that she shouldn't have said that. He seemed to have shrunk in his seat. Red felt his breathing accelerate — he was trying his best to slow it down. . . It must. . . Lub-dub — his veins felt like exploding — lub-dub — he's going to lose control again . . . he's gonna have a fit — lub-dub-lub-dub — he felt his vision blurring. . . No . . . not in front of Yellow. He felt it — it was near — it was _moving_.

"Red?" Yellow whispered, worried. "What's wrong?"

Red snapped out of it. He looked at Yellow.

"There's — nothing," he said quickly. Yellow had the impression that he didn't want her to know anything — well, that's pretty stupid. There was a moment when she saw his eyes flash — for a split of a second, and only that time did she realize that he might have another fit. Both puzzled and interested at the same time — and also a little sceptical — she leaned forward slightly, and scowled indifferently.

"You. . ." she whispered, her breath against his chin — she dropped her gaze to the floor, though she was still absentmindedly leaning forward nearer to him — she was beginning to be so _close_, Red had to scoot a bit just to avoid her bumping to him, blood rushing to his face so that he was turning really rubicund. "Said that Rayquaza has already reached that island where the Sky Pillar is. . . Where I _was_ before I made it here — somehow — to Mirage Island. . ."

Yellow who in contrast with Red was turning paler. But she didn't notice a thing and went on — Red, on the other hand, noticed that, behind Yellow, Green was — somehow, if possible — looking colder; and, worse, he was _glaring at Red_. What was the bloke's problem? It seemed like he was looking angrier than usual at him. . .

Yellow immediately shot her head up, her eyes teary — Yellow wanted to wipe them while she still had the chance what with her head down and all, but she just couldn't do it. She faced Red's eyes with solemnity and worry — she was so focused on his eyes, she didn't even notice how panicky and uncomfortable Red looked and the fact that he wasn't even looking back at her. "What about my cousin and Uncle?"

Red snapped out of his reverie and turned back to Yellow, his one eyebrow raised and the other furrowed, looking at her in surprise and with mild confusion.

"You mean your female cousin?"

Green gave a cough that sounded like he was either amused or embarrassed — or both — while Yellow felt a huge blow on her head that was supposed to be out of pure stupidity. She's forgotten that she's told Red Gold was a _girl_; was she mental?

"Nope," said Yellow, barely looking forward to lie to Red — she scooted closer to the drawer near the bed and, still looking at Red, she absentmindedly groped her hand behind her to find what she needed for him to believe —

"How many cousins are you taking?" asked Red, clearly confused right now. Green just gave a frustrated sigh at the corner of the bed from him. At last, Yellow's finally managed to find the thing she needed.

"Well — for starters, _he's_ not a _she_, and _this_ belonged to him."

Heaving a sigh of deep regret — Gold didn't want others touching this, let alone even strangers — she shoved what seemed to be a pair of glasses, but in closer inspection, they were —

"Goggles?" said Red, astonished, staring at what landed in front of him on the bed.

"Goggles," repeated Yellow, nodding. Green, too, seemed interested, and leaned over to gawk.

She wasn't paying attention to Red, but stared at the pair of goggles, thinking of the pair of deep, gold-amber eyes staring back at her; but she only saw the reflection of her amber-brown ones.

* * *

><p><em><strong>ABOUT 2 HOURS AGO<strong>_

"Damn the devil — I don't wanna die in _this_ island," muttered Gold, his eyes on one thing and one thing only — despite the rain, he could see it almost clearly; if only his vision weren't blurred enough — but the huge pokémon up in the sky's size was so gigantic, he could still see it _perfectly_. It looked so huge and powerful, it was a wonder why it came to the island: Gold's first thought was because it wanted to migrate or something, then his second was because of destroying the island. He had to wipe his eyes every now and then just to see it in a perfect angle, but its direction was turning —

"What!" Gold cried, rubbing his eyes again from the rain, turning his head to the direction of the pokémon, though not literally moving his feet from his current position as it might hurt him — he needed to see where it was going — _quick_.

Sure enough, when Gold opened his eyes, he was just in time to see the pokémon's tail lagging as the rest of its body flew up higher in the sky before disappearing in the dark clouds — but just when he thought he was going to lose it again — and attempting to shout a curse without waking Uncle Wilton or Barty — it suddenly reappeared and landed on the only thing that seemed big on the island — Gold wiped his eyes again to see a clearer view of things —

It was _Sky Pillar._

"Bloody hell," he breathed, his eyes widening — he'd just seen a gigantic creature up close; yet something inside him was writhing — and it seemed to have been the million pieces his heart had left, and it seemed more like a pig-like squeal; it was wincing louder than his stomach was. Pulling himself together, he managed to gather the strength he could muster just to wipe the rain off his face to make sure — _to be absolutely sure _— that the pokémon landed on the tower.

Barty sure wasn't going to like this.

"_Gold_ — Gold, what's wrong?"

Gold snapped back to reality: he was standing, wet, again, in the rain, and remembered immediately that he was staring at completely nothing in a trance at the sky, never leaving his gaze upon where the pokémon's long tail had once been, and was already a few yards away from the small two-room hut.

He wheeled around, scowling slightly, and wiped his eyes once more — he found himself looking at a blurry, huge blue blob that seemed to be bigger as the sounds of muffled footsteps on the sand grew louder. He blinked a few times and gaped — squinting, he tried to figure out who the hell called his name because he didn't hear the voice clearly.

Suddenly, the huge blurry blue blob — that was _obviously_ human — was standing in front of Gold. It took Gold a few seconds to realize who the person was when he regained his vision: what he knew for sure when it's been regained first was that the person had a blue beanie and a square face . . . then he could make out his eyes with the small black pupils . . . and then his long, blue overcoat he wore over a black shirt.

"Uncle!" he exclaimed, his squinted eyes bulged now that he realized who it was. Uncle Wilton draped his arm over Gold's shoulder protectively and bent a bit low so that his face won't be rained on as badly as Gold's was — Gold gave a small grunt, wriggling a little; he didn't always like it when some random bloke covers him over his shoulder. Especially when their armpits were wet. But this was barely an exception due to the rain.

"What the hell were you doing out in the rain?" demanded Wilton as they stomped a few yards away from the spot where they once were, his voice still echoing inside Gold's right ear. Meh, so what? It's not like he's gonna do anything about it, right? Gold rolled his eyes and didn't answer — sooner or later, he's gonna convince his uncle: yeah, that's what he's gonna do. Convince him that he's a way more favourable child than Yellow was.

Digging his hands deep in his pockets, he grumbled a swearword sentence that went predictably noticed by his uncle after they'd already reached a distance. "What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," Gold muttered sarcastically, still rolling his eyes in the direction toward the Sky Pillar. He hoped that Uncle Wilton wasn't as dense as Yellow was — that reminded him; was he the only smart one in the family? He smirked at the thought. Yeah right. Being smart was so rewarding it hurt.

"What d'you mean, nothing?" Uncle Wilton demanded, literally raising his voice slightly. "And quit rolling your eyes, Gold!"

"You'll never believe me even if I'd tell you," mumbled Gold — he hated saying it but it was true. He pushed aside his arm and jumped on the threshold of the hut. He pulled back his fringe — damn it, it's wet. He leaned against the wooden railings of the threshold and gave a loud sigh — the floor kind of creaked, but he was supposed to get used to it, wasn't he? And the fact that he's stayed in this hut for a month shows that he's doing everything he could just to see his cousin. . .

Something scaly had unpleasantly clawed its way out of Gold's stomach as the thought ran through his mind almost like an icy knife — but what hurt more was the fact that his cousin had been away in an island that disappears and reappears every now and then. There was a tie, as well — the competition of knowing Yellow was all alone in the island and knowing how much he missed her was heating up; she could very well be attacked by a gang of pokémon there. She didn't know how to battle very well, and her pokémon's levels were unbelievably _low_. . . But if she would survive, how long would it be until she gets back? Gold doesn't even trust that Barty bloke. . .

"Gold?" whispered Uncle Wilton, leaning on the wooden railings to support his weight. He cocked his head a bit to see Gold's face under the shadows of his wet hair.

Gold didn't immediately answer. He hung his head forward and blinked back tears: he's got to admit it — he's not a kid anymore, he couldn't cry. . . The raindrops that fell on his face had helped him cover his tears, at the least, and he also looked down, and the pitter-patter of the rain had grown so loudly, Uncle Wilton couldn't hear his sobs. . .

"I miss her, Uncle," he mumbled, his vision blurring due to tears: the sand had suddenly swirled in what he was seeing, and it made a sudden sand tomb until his vision was clear again — instead, he saw his tear fall and splash on the ground along with the raindrops. He didn't want his uncle to see him cry, but apparently, Uncle Wilton was in the verge of tears as well, so at least they were evenly matched. He didn't even need to look at him just to know he's crying.

Well — his response was taking a lot longer than Gold expected, that oaf. Meanwhile, Gold, looking for something to do more than he wanted to, bit his lip and sucked on it like a baby on a pacifier. Suddenly, through the rain, even through the million thoughts that were running in his mind, he heard the floor creak slightly followed by the sound of footsteps, then a loud tapping noise that seemed more lurid than the rain. Gold then turned around to see who it was, cocking his head to the side because his uncle was in the way of his view: suddenly, his tears were gone.

Since Uncle Wilton was in the way, he didn't entirely see the bloke's face, but it didn't need to take a detective to find out who was standing on the doorway, either — for a split-second, Gold half-expected it to be Yellow, so when he got a full view of the man behind Uncle Wilton, he scowled slightly: it was Barty, instead. Gold hung his head and gave a groan, staring out in the rainy shores where the moonlight had bathed it. Honestly, though, he'd already forgotten it was midnight. . . On most days, it's already so rainy the lot of them were used to it. Come to think of it, they've never seen clear sky since they were once in Kanto. . .

"You've seen something, boy," said Barty, his lips barely moving. Gold waved an airy hand almost lazily — though he had to admit, that old man knows what he's saying: Gold tried to hide his remorse by acting childishly and almost rudely. Carrying his crane, Gold assumed — which wasn't very hard to figure out — Barty had strode on the creaky wooden floor to Gold's side, but he, too, was staring at the forest that lead to Sky Pillar in the rain.

Uncle Wilton was left ignored, however, much to his contempt and indignance — Barty had so far ignored him so much, he accidentally struck the tip of his crane on his shoe really hard he winced, but didn't say anything and let things be. Gold rolled his eyes: he was under the impression that Uncle Wilton would better understand things if he stayed silent and listen to the both of them and ask questions later. A wise choice indeed.

When Barty reached Gold's side, however, Gold just waited for the old man to ask. Barty didn't lean on the wooden railings of the threshold, but he just stood there, staring at the rain in deep thought. Apparently, he was still thinking of some way to ask Gold in a way that will make him answer accurately — but Gold, however, knew this coming and thought that tactic to be useless. If telling Barty what he just saw will help him find his lost cousin sooner, then that's what he'll do.

Suddenly, Barty pulled Gold by the collar a few inches from his face and his eyes had become suddenly large — Uncle Wilton made to stop Barty, taking just one step before Barty, going rigid, tapped his crane and, still staring deep into Gold's panicky, anxious, and horror-struck gold-amber eyes, pointed it directly at Uncle Wilton's neck.

"What did you see?" whispered Barty in a raspy voice, whose eyes literally bulged so hugely they were the size of tennis balls: his grip on Gold's collar was shaking, and Gold was so constricted, he couldn't even move his neck to glance at Uncle Wilton — but something caught his eye that made him lose his temptation to break his neck just to struggle from Barty's grip; his eyes had turned to slits . . . ! Gold gave a slight grunt that sounded like a wince, feeling Barty's hot breath hit his face. Too terrified, Gold didn't look away from his eyes; suddenly, they reverted back to its original shape — but there was a hue to it that changed, Gold was sure.

Before Gold could even continue his thoughts, Barty shook him once more, more vigorously, making Uncle Wilton struggle one step, the crane's tip following his neck, and shout, "LAY OFF HIM, YOU SON OF A —"

"What did you see, boy?" asked Barty in the same voice; Gold was sure of it now — his cerulean eyes turned to slits then changed colour once it's back to its original shape: they turned _cobalt-blue_, an icy, blue colour that suited his attitude. "I'm asking you, _what did you see?_"

"N — nothing —"

"Your eyes tell me you're _lying,_ boy!" shrieked Barty, spit covering Gold's face (Gold wanted to wipe it, but he can't, so he resulted to want to tell the old man the truth before he's wet with Barty's saliva.) If possible, his eyes bulged larger every time he shouts.

"Okay — okay! I've s-seen a kind of pokémon," stuttered Gold, trying his hardest to raise his voice high enough so that Barty won't demand for more detail.

"Can you _describe_ what it looked like?" shouted Barty.

_Oh, sh_ —

Gold's instincts told him to lie at the tip of his tongue, then, being cunning as he is — if either Yellow or Chris were here, they'd roll their eyes — he followed that and resorted to an ambiguous answer.

"I — I can't — I don't know — I mean, there was rain — I was outside — I just didn't see clear enough," Gold managed to cry out sobbingly — which seemed to have turned out pretty convincing. Barty withdrew his crane from Uncle Wilton's neck (Uncle Wilton gasped and massaged his neck) but still didn't let go of Gold — they stared at each other's eyes for a moment — Gold thought Barty seemed to be checking whether he was lying or not by looking him in the eye, which was creepy enough — and Barty, still clutching Gold by the collar, dragged him inside, Gold gasping for breath.

While apparently trying to loosen Barty's grip from Gold's collar, Gold could barely see Uncle Wilton following the both of them inside the hut — he was even amazed that Barty could pull off pulling his _113_-_pound_ weight when he could hardly stand straight — Barty's grasp on his collar was tightening, and Gold could see it was because of excitement — but why?

Grunting, he tried to loosen it again, while also attempting to keep his eyes open to look at Uncle Wilton, who was already a few feet away from his struggling feet: he even dug his shoes on the floor just to slow Barty and him down. He felt his face pale and the blood losing its coursing. . .

His vision was even blurring; all he could see of Uncle Wilton was a huge blob — not unlike his blurred vision in the rain. . . Pain starting to develop greater in his neck portion, his grip on Barty's hand that was holding quite a grasp on his neckline losing, Gold's lost all his hope and waited for Barty to stop before he'll eventually _die _—

Finally, Gold heard Barty come to a halt, surveying the surroundings — like _Gold_ knew where they were. Hell, it might have even been the _lavatory_ to him; how should _he_ know? Panting, Barty let go of him, finally — and, relieved, gasping for breath, Gold dropped to the wooden floor, his head hitting the floor first, keeping his eyes closed despite he could already breathe — he knew this familiar smell of the room anywhere; it was the _Dying_ Room. He rubbed his neckline severely and swore viciously about Barty, sitting.

"God _damn_ you," muttered Gold, clenching his teeth — he stood up straight, then stretched out his back and faced Barty across the room, who was standing on tiptoe in front of the shelf — wait, what? Wasn't that where he kept his stupid documentaries about stuff? And, come to think of it, Gold considered, raising his eyebrows, that was where he and Yellow had read all his manuscripts and . . .

An odd feeling rose in his stomach and popped venomously as a realization occurred to him; there was a sketch in there about the long-tailed pokémon he's just seen in the rain. . .

_Oh . . . My . . . Lord._

It must've had an association with the island Yellow's been swept away in — _but why was it here again_? As Gold stared at nothing in particular at all in his own reality of thinking, Barty grabbed a document from above the bookshelf and put it down, scanning its pages almost greedily, his eyes popping — Gold scratched the back of his neck in deep thought.

Yellow's currently in _Mirage Island _— and it's supposed to only be a myth in Barty's document! Some vacation this turned out to be for them all. . . School's supposed to have started, but it's been moved a few weeks; and it's gonna start in _a month_. Yellow won't be back for a _year _— well, according to Barty, she's only gonna end up at Lilycove or something in the next few weeks, but _how_ are they going to know for sure?

In the moonlight, Gold saw Barty stop at the middle of his manuscript — its pages were already yellow with age, yet the writing's not been touched and smothered; it was clean and neat. Focusing on the manuscript, Gold took several steps closer and stared at it; the shade of the raindrops on the window with the moonlight shining through had shadowed some of the writings, but they could still be read clearly. . .

Gold cocked his head so that he could read silently, moving his mouth.

There was a sketch of a long-bodied creature that was curled up like a snake, but its details were above normal and they looked very grand — as though drawn by an artist with spattered ink with a hint of dirt that has blended in elegantly; Gold froze.

It was the pokémon he's seen . . . the details were above unnatural — they were too true — he must lie to Barty — he just can't come up with a better lie. . .

Skipping the picture, he'd begun to read:

_Rayquaza__ (Rey-kwey-zuh) _

_Pokémon that lives in the atmosphere (Oak) And witnesses have seen this magnificent pokémon flying in the skies of Hoenn — it doesn't seem to be flying anywhere else, as well. . ._

_Length: 587 feet long_

_Height: Without full-length alone, it could reach up higher than Sky Pillar itself_

_Weight: Unspecified_

_**THE MYTH**_

_In ancient times whose time is longer than the day was born, two jewels were formed from the scales of each pokémon it was destined to be existed for — the Crimson and Indigo Jewels, which were both hidden at a sacred place at the same grounds._

_Within the quick span of time just after the creation of the two jewels, someone's broken into the sanctuary and has stolen both of the jewels — whose identity is still unknown. The word spread so quickly, that when they finally figured out who it was, they've found the thief lying dead on the floor of his house — it was a clever ruse. Someone must have found out who it was quicker than the others and took things at his own hands, leaving no evidence found, and stole the Jewels. _

_The history of both the Orbs is a bloody one — in which thieves would have to take them by force — but never once had the Orbs been separated. Finally, when the Jewels have landed on the right hands of two children, whom have said that a shifty man had given these to them while a chase was being initiated, before he was killed and was found of no Jewels, they've created another sanctuary whose whereabouts they haven't told — and I have a hunch that it's Mt. Pyre through my research. _

_Years passed, and they've grown old, and, before they let the Jewels to the wrong hands, they'd given them to their son, who passed it on to his grandchild, who gave it to his son — the history of the Jewels at the time had become quiet, still, and wasn't resulting to any sort of violence: Indeed, the Jewels have been at the right hands all along with the children who've first handled it. _

_Until, shortly, it was stolen while the guardian was asleep — or, knocked out. But the only thing it stole was the Indigo Jewel —_

"Here, boy," said Barty gruffly, and Gold was snapped back into reality — he remembered he was only staring at a page of a manuscript, not reading a story. . . But it seemed so interesting, he wanted to continue reading. Gold turned to Barty, also recalling he was mad at him, and bent down low to see what he's been up to while he was reading.

"What?" Gold demanded almost lazily, raising a sceptical eyebrow, staring at his sketch of Rayquaza: he found the myth much more interesting than what Barty had to say. He felt Barty's elbow give a twitch and Gold felt a sharp, slow, blow on his head when Barty pushed his head down to see closer.

And, with Barty's other hand — Gold could barely see because of the pain — he ran down his fingers on the page fondly, if not adoringly, as if it were a delicate document. And, with his raspy, cold voice, he seemed too speechless to talk right now.

"This — this is the pokémon . . . Magnificent. . . Flies without wings. . ." murmured Barty to himself — Gold felt himself sick: Barty must've loved this stupid pokémon more than he did his deceased wife. Trying his best not to roll his eyes, Gold pushed aside Barty's hand on his head and stood straight, staring at the sketch.

"What about it?" said Gold, still finding the story a lot more interesting, with a tone of someone yawning. He squinted his eyes lazily at the sketch, forcing them to stay there and not linger on the myth. Barty, who was still in his weird trance — Gold had the impression right now he's gay — ran his finger up and down the page again and, turning his ugly face in front of Gold, he whispered, his eyes shining, "This is the pokémon you've seen."

"Huh — NO! I mean, of course not! It must've been some kind of Wingull or something."

What a stupid lie. Even Gold himself thought so — he looked at Barty's face — anywhere but the eyes, because they were creeping him out — and found his features more hideous than at closer inspection; he tried to pull on a convincing expression, but it only appeared to be out of sheer panic, because Barty pulled on a more disturbing face that made Gold's eyes turn away from his face and accidentally land on his eyes.

_Damn_.

Barty pulled him closer by the collar — not again — and shouted at him, making Gold wince, "This pokémon must've come here because of the climate — I know you've seen it, you dirty little boy — _tell me where it is!_"

"Why should I?" said Gold, trying to sound braver than he felt — he thought he heard his voice crack when he said so, and pulled on an angry face instead .— but it was already hard enough concentrating to look away from Barty's ugly face, that he didn't focus enough on looking as though he were a great rebel.

Barty's eyes suddenly became slits once more and, if possible, turned back to its natural shape — the same colour, but they made Barty look sharper — Gold, amazed and astonished, leaned a bit closer to his face and scowled; what the hell was that? Barty started once again and whacked Gold with the stick — er, crane — repeatedly on his capped head — Gold winced loudly and shouted, jumping from the wooden floor and far from Barty's face — he stood straight, even though Barty was still continuously whacking him —

Blocking the stick from hitting him with one of his hands and the other massaging his head, Gold took several steps backward and said, with one eye open, "S-stop that — _old man, I said stop_ — I'LL TELL YOU IF YOU STOP!"

Panting, Gold staggered backward to the corner, feeling himself tremble: What the hell had he done? And why did his eyes become slits again? Shaking his head, Gold bent down low to frown at Barty, whose height was now in level with his now that he's crouched down a bit, and scowled at him. When Barty raised his stick again, Gold managed to finally catch it with his left hand — barely missing — and controlled his gaze at Barty's eyes.

"I'll tell you — yeah," said Gold, smirking as he saw Barty's frazzled expression — and he didn't seem too keen on trusting Gold yet, but that was all right; when Gold'll tell him, he'll spill. For a fraction of a second, the crane Gold delayed with his left hand had shook, but Gold left it as it is for a while. "Yeah, I'll tell you — if you promise to tell me whether this has an association with Mirage Island — and my cousin's disappearance."

Gold's heart thumped loudly in his chest — he was waiting for Barty's answer. . . He'll finally know — he'll catch that pokémon . . . then release it after he's got his cousin back — that's the plan. . . Then this nightmare will all be over (but unbeknownst to him, it's much worse in the hell place Yellow is right now.) School's gonna start in just a few weeks — she's got to be here now. . . Gold needed her — frankly because he needed a witness to explain to Silver just how the hell his iPod was lost — but right now, Yellow mattered most. Unusually, Gold missed her.

Barty looked as though he was considering something for a moment. Then he finally decided — he raised his crane but Gold was ready for him; the crane was about to hit his face when it stopped moving. Barty's hand trembled with, definitely not fear, but because of force — his grip of the crane was suddenly slipping and he noticed — Gold smirked widely now — that a _hand_ was holding it. He looked behind his shoulder and terror etched across his face, making Gold's grin grow wider than ever: It was Ataro, and he, too, had been smirking just as wide as his master. Being behind Barty's back, Barty had no other choice and glared menacingly at Gold — much to his delight.

"Now, don't try to do anything _funny_," said Gold, who was now definitely smirking — he stood to his full height and looked down on Barty, who was glaring up at him, looking quite constricted. "I want to know. And if you don't want to tell me, I won't tell you."

"Fine, fine," said Barty — and he looked as though he wanted to regret everything he's about to tell Gold. He took a deep breath and said, looking at the floor, "I'll have to enumerate the manuscript for you to understand better."

Gold, still not giving Barty his full trust, nodded curtly at Ataro, who nodded back at him in agreement and allowed Barty to move his limbs so that he would lead the way. Barty grudgingly and reluctantly moved over to the small table where the manuscript was sitting on and scanned a few pages — Gold moved from the wall and made to go over and sneak a peek.

Barty placed the manuscript on the table abruptly — and loudly, literally making the whole room shake — and Gold winced silently, but didn't move where he was because the page stayed on a sketch where a sea monster was and a sort of dragon-like creature emerged from the ground.

The sea monster was only a few yards from the dragon-like creature, but the climates around them were very different; the sea creature's was very stormy, where waves crashed on the rock where the creature emerged from, which had a climate of scorching sun. When Gold had to squint, he could see that their expressions were less friendly than what he'd expected.

The sea monster's teeth were bared; and it looked like it wanted to shoot out an attack to fight the creature. The creature didn't even do anything — or what it looked like. It was just standing there in a stance, looking as though it was waiting for something — and that seemed to not be the monster. Gold had to bend down low in order to see what it was waiting for; maybe there was something more to this sketch than what it appeared.

In closer inspection, there was something on top of both the pokémon's heads that concerned Gold more — each there was a small black figure on the heads holding something that seemed _glowing_.

"Know what they are, boy?" whispered the old man, in a trance once more at his own sketches. Gold shook his head slowly: and this was the only time he'd been actually honest.

"They're the myths — the two ancient pokémon that live in Hoenn — yes, boy, you've heard that right — they're true — they're not just myths: they're _legends_."

Barty scanned the manuscript again, excited. When he reached — Gold gave an involuntary jerk — the page Gold read earlier, before he was interrupted.

"I've seen that," said Gold abruptly, not controlling himself, even catching himself in surprise. Barty's head shot up and he stared at Gold, surprise dawning on his face. Knowing he can't come up with lying again, Gold found it better if he'd just tell the truth. Even Ataro raised his eyebrows. "It's flown across the rainy sky — and landed, I think, on Sky Pillar."

The pain finally leaving his stomach — which was most probably guilt — Gold relaxed — but it was too early for celebrating; Barty didn't look too convinced.

"_You_ — so it's true —?"

"Yeah," said Gold, hurrying. "And I want to know whether or not this has a connection with Mirage Island — or with my cousin. I — I'll catch it — I'm great with capturing —"

"It's not easily captured," said Barty, whispering furiously. Gold stood his ground this time, but he couldn't deny he was regretting what he said. "It's an ancient pokémon that calms down two-thirds of the Legendary Trio of Hoenn! It's to be the _strongest_ of —"

Barty, who was obviously pissed, scanned through the pages and back to the last one, where he slammed his hand on.

"— Of _the three_!" finished Barty. Gold peered again, careful: there, above the sea monster and the dragon-like creature, was Rayquaza — Gold was surprised he didn't have enough time to notice it. He turned back to the last page and slammed his fist once again. Gold took this as a sign to read — _loudly_. Feeling Ataro, who was very frightened right now, climbing up his shoulders, Gold stood straight and read aloud.

_But the only thing stolen was the Indigo Jewel._

"That's where you've left off?" asked Barty, surprised. Gold, unnerved, continued after nodding shortly.

_After the thief had fled, the guardian wasted no time in calling for help: but what really cracked them was that he only stole the Indigo one. _

_Not later, there was a huge tsunami that swept the entire region — storms had unexpectedly formed and typhoons were starting to develop. _

_It was not soon enough that a creature emerged from the waters — Kyogre (Kai-Yo-Ger) is what it's been called, and it was hungry for the battle against Groudon (Graw-don), who's its complete inverse._

_The guardian finally found out that the Crimson Jewel had been mysteriously glowing all the while — and Groudon had later revealed itself out of the land. _

_The two have been battling forever, and it seemed only fair that today they continue that. There was terror everywhere and someone has got to do something — and then the answer was right before them. Not far from Sootopolis, where the two have engaged battle, was where Sky Pillar was built. It was a high tower structure that was built on a remote island off the coast of Pacifidlog — but it was later abandoned. However, a pokémon has taken refuge in it since; the tower was so high, it reached the skies. _

_Rayquaza broke out of its space and flew out of the tower to soothe the beasts. Unbeknownst to any of them, the thief had returned to Mount Pyre to steal the other Jewel, and managed to escape — he Surfed to an island not far from the coast of where Sky Pillar was, and where the Battle was going on. The Jewels reacted to the two pokémon and have collided with each other — the thief _died_. _

_Somehow, time and space was being shifted, and everything was changing — while the island was between the battle of Groudon and Kyogre, it somehow developed a system in which it would only appear at certain climates — and with the presence of Rayquaza, with its Ability, Cloud Nine, and the collision of the two Jewels due to the reaction — which all happened in one blink of an eye, all in a breath, like a coincidence — Mirage Island was formed. _

_Nobody knows where it's been banished — but only one living thing could cross the boundaries it's secured — and it's Celebi, the time-travelling pokémon. Nobody knows for sure, but Mirage Island may very well be lost in time and in space, due to several things happening at once with a simple decision made — the thief's decision to steal. And because it could cross time, it could get to Mirage Island without dying. . . And since then, it's made a gateway to travelling — and their whereabouts are yet to be known. _

_One thing's for sure, though, every once in a while, Mirage Island reappears . . . and disappears in a matter of seconds. _

"That's it?" demanded Gold, expecting something more. Barty pinched him in the ear — he whined but Barty disregarded that — and whispered to him in his ear, with Ataro listening, "We're gonna _get_ it."

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: **_**Oh . . . My . . . Lord. . . I CAN'T BELIEVE I CAME UP WITH ALL THIS IN 30 MINUTES! YAHOOOOOOOOO! Please tell me what you think! Because I'd like to get the next chapter READY! I LOVE YOU GUYS! YOU'RE MY INSPIRATION! **_

**GOLD: **_**What about US?**_


	23. The Manuscript

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Heeey guys! I know it's been such a while, but I'm back! Anyway — practices are in order and I'd like to know how to PLAY CHESS!**_

**GOLD: **_**What d'you mean? I thought you're already an expert!**_

**ME: **_**NO! Which git told you THAT? I've played it for 2 YEARS IN A ROW, BUT NOT AGAINST HIGH SCHOOL PARTICIPANTS **__**OLDER THAN ME**__**! Sure, I've defeated the Grand Chessmaster, BUT THAT WAS IN 5**__**TH**__** GRADE AND I'VE COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN HOW TO STRATEGIZE! **_**WANTED: CHESSMASTER.**

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**XXX: Yeah, I know! I'm just as surprised and excited as you are! My story is finally MAKING SENSE! Oh, and the thief wanted the Orbs/Jewels because he wanted power, I guess. It's just my imagination going ballistic again ^-^ Oh, and thanks for the pancakes! It's very delicious! Here, have my infamous FLAN! It's tasty, and melts in your mouth =)**_

_**Split Heart 1120: Yup! But not every question can be seen — any question that comes unnoticed will be easily ignored in a story — thus, making the reader forget about it. However, what if that question comes out really important in a story? That kind of question is called, Ignored and Forgotten. The kind of question that could easily be answered is called, Mystery. The question that is easily ignored will matter more in a story — yet forgotten. Thus, it's easily known as the hardest question to answer. The same goes with seeing people for who they are; look deeper, find more meaning. Anyway, enough about that — thanks for reviewing! Glad I answered some of your questions! Have some cake! I guarantee it tastes great!**_

_**YaysoulX3: Aww — I TOLD you guys there'll be more GOLD! And yeah — Barty's not Rayquaza. Because that is just way too awkward. So that's just what I've been deciding — WHO'S RAYQUAZA'S CONTROLLER? I think it should either be Yellow or Gold. But that could ruin EVERYTHING! Oh, and thanks about the comment about the myths; I'm starting to grow fond of you =P Oh, and about Gold in Mirage Island — NOT HAPPENING. There's something I've got to do that'll make Gold more interesting . . . I think. Anyway — like I've mentioned in some chapters before — gays aren't allowed in Mirage Island, THUS shrinking its population. Oh, and thanks! And more cupcakes for you XP**_

_**Moonlight Obsidian Frost Zanpakto19: The reaction'll turn up pretty slow, 'cause you know, DENSENESS. And thanks for the comment! I try to make every chapter as epic as possible with every detail looked up! How about a mug of hot chocolate and MARSHMALLOWS? It's nice! =P**_

_**Schloopy Woopy: Thanks for the really short review ^-^ Have a cupcake — oh, and I haven't had newer reviewers than you! Thanks for taking your time to read!**_

**ME: **_**Anyway, putting reviews and feedbacks aside — I NEED A NEW CHESS TEACHER! A PROPER AND REALLY GOOD ONE! A.S.A.P.! **_

**YELLOW: **_**B-b-but by the time this chapter gets sent, then your Intramurals would have been over!**_

**ME: **_**Oh, REALLY?**_

**YELLOW: **_**Y — am I supposed to say yes?**_

**ME: **_**Anything's possible! Anyway — Gold's not going to climb up the stairs of Sky Pillar — BUT! A surprise awaits you guys! Just stay tuned! Oh, and I'm asking you guys just one last time, in your favour; IS BARTY EVIL OR IS HE JUST MISUNDERSTOOD? I'm creating my poll here because mine in my account is being ignored =P This is the real blowout question: IS BARTY EVIL OR MISUNDERSTOOD? BOTH ARE REALLY DIFFERENT TO EACH OTHER BECAUSE THIS AFFECTS HIS **__**DEATH**__**.**_

**22****nd ****CHAPTER: THE MANUSCRIPT**

**LOG EIGHT**

**SAME TIME; OFF THE COAST OF PACIFIDLOG**

**DAY OF MIRAGE ISLAND**

"**B**loody hell!" said Gold, hardly daring to believe what he's been hearing — the old man wanted to _lead _him to the very face of death? No hell way! What're they even gonna do there? Catch the damn Rayquaza? And this was happening so quickly, Gold's been losing track of some things . . . like the _time_. It's been a while since he'd had a decent sleep, and he's been dying to try and get some z's forever.

Barty stared at him, his cold eyes piercing Gold's gold-amber ones — the same, chilling and creepy feeling ran down his spine the longer the time stretched since they'd locked gazes: He's still got to figure out how his eyes' colour change.

He felt Ataro stir on his back; he seemed frightened, but Barty's just one cruel old man without any business, Gold thought savagely. He didn't even care about his cousin at all, that's what Gold — so far — thought out. Even if he _did_ try to save her from the blokes that snatched her, he didn't even try enough — he knew the mechanics of Mirage Island — too well, unfortunately — and he didn't even warn her to stay away . . . or he would've just whacked her in the head like he did Gold and have it over and done with.

All he'd ever wanted was power, that's why he'd wanted to come to the tower. Just to get it. Anyway — _no deal_. Gold wasn't going to risk his life for a stupid old man who wanted power, was he? He'd rather die saving his cousin.

"I'm not going to risk my life trying to climb up the stairs of that stinking tower and capturing a pokémon that's so powerful it could calm down two _monsters_!" yelled Gold, pressing on recklessly. Something in his nervous system had told him that Barty was going to interrupt, seeing his eyes shrink a little, and he went on, shouting, "And even if I could, having pokémon that could fly, I STILL WON'T! This doesn't concern my cousin! _My cousin!_ She's stuck in Mirage Island for a full _month_, and I'd like to have her back if the modern Mirage Island rumour is true!"

There was a ringing silence that fell upon them that made Gold almost regret what he said — _almost_. Gold awaited for Barty to start whacking him in the head — he silently agreed with Ataro if he did anything fishy, he's gonna have it — in bated breath, glaring at him in detestation. Clenching his fists, Gold at the same time gritted his teeth in impatience — it's been a full 10 seconds and he _still_ hasn't reacted to what he's told him.

To his utter surprise, Barty's eyes widened in shock and his face fell with understanding dawning on his face. His lips were barely parted when he whispered hoarsely, "What rumours?"

"The — snatch — the kidnapping stuff I've read in that manuscript while Yellow was still here — before she's disappeared," said Gold awkwardly — this wasn't as he'd anticipated. Even after a month he could still remember what he'd read — of course, there were _girls_ involved. . . He sensed Ataro's jaw drop on his cap and knew for sure that he too didn't expect this. He and Ataro exchanged nervous and puzzled looks as Barty clicked his tongue.

"It's true," said Barty, shaking his head.

Gold's heart seemed to have missed several beats as he, for the first time, denied what he once thought was pleasurable — his stomach dropped so low he thought he heard it plummet to the ground with a noise that seemed a cross between a splash and a crash — _so the raping stories were true, then?_

Gold spluttered in disbelief, his mouth unable to lift itself up because it wanted to hang there, making Gold look like he was half-gaping. His eyes followed Barty as he walked across him in the room and to the window, where there were no lights but, apparently, the rain pouring harder than before; he tried his best to ignore Gold's splutter and think to himself.

"B-b-but that means — _she must've lost her virginity weeks ago!_" Gold bellowed, kicking a nearby chair that just stood there, barely standing with its 3 legs. This was absolutely _unacceptable._ Ataro jumped from his head and landed safely on the wooden floor, curling itself into a ball so that it wouldn't be hurt, looking up cautiously at its master. Gold glared menacingly at Barty, who was just staring at the ocean in some kind of weak atmosphere.

"What d'you want from me?" said Gold miserably, leaning against the sill of the open window, staring at the rain that reminded him forcefully of the early morning Yellow disappeared. He didn't expect Barty to answer his reply, however.

"Your youth," said Barty, making Gold look at him. "I'm old and frail — do you expect me to come over there? No, I don't think you would."

"But what do you want from me?" Gold repeated, losing his patience. He sighed when Barty didn't answer and looked back at the window, frowning.

Barty stared at him, wondering.

"I, unlike you, am thirsting for _power_," said Barty. Gold looked at him, puzzled; his eyes locked with his and he saw it glint mysteriously for a fraction of a second — almost hungrily. "If there's something you want in Mirage Island — maybe I could help you and you me."

"Forget it, old man," said Gold roughly, through gritted teeth. He was now looking at him in a sober-angry expression — he couldn't believe him. He'll never do it. Gold will just pray to God that Yellow's still survived that mad island.

Then, what he saw changed his expression to pure terror — Barty had showed him his hands; his fingers were longer than they were supposed to be, and they seemed sturdier, but what really got Gold was that _each had long, sharp nails _— he was smirking like a madman, and his eyes had become slits once more . . . and it appeared to stay the same for a full 7 seconds — it didn't change form.

"B-Barty — y-your nails a-are. . ." stuttered Gold, staring at his _weird_ nails in horror — at the corner of his eye, he saw Ataro let out a huge cry that was supposed to be a wince and made its way to Gold's feet, hiding. But Gold's only attention was at his nails. . . Barty's sneer broadened so strangely that it seemed like the corners of his mouth had cut across his slits for eyes.

"Your cousin may have survived there," Barty wheezed, letting out a mirthful cackle. Gold retreated a few steps and hit the wall — _crap_. Ataro had climbed up his shoulder and was trembling madly. ". . . and she mayn't have lost her virginity — not yet. . ."

"W — what do you — what're you saying?"

Gold's breathing had suddenly become slower than usual, and his pulse was losing — Barty was lying, wasn't he? He's got to be — he always lies. . . But could he possibly try to believe him for Yellow? He didn't even know what to think — what with Barty's weird glare and all. Someone's already must've done something to her. . . But what's good is that she may still be alive — _may_ is a strong word. Barty inched closer and reached for his ear almost creepily — Gold forcefully had to endure the awkwardness and discomfort whilst pressing himself closer to the wall, almost wincing.

Barty had seized Gold's ear so hard Gold thought he was going to get pierced. His voice, as always, was raspy and cold as he whispered in his ear, "Rayquaza is the only answer to our problems. . .

"Think about it. . . It's started _everything_. . ."

"It's _ended_ everything," said Gold coldly, pulling himself up. "The battle, Mirage Island's freedom — which isn't much of a bad thing — the chaos that fell upon Hoenn — _everything._"

Barty pulled him by the ear again and whispered more hoarsely, if not harshly, "Don't you see yet, boy? _Rayquaza may lead us to Mirage Island. . ._"

Gold thought about this for a moment. . . He could rescue Yellow. . . Leave Uncle Wilton behind. And come back home-free. That's a good thing. Ataro rubbed Gold's chin animatedly, making him look like he's thinking deeply. At last, Barty pulled over and smiled goofily (Gold greatly ignored the bleeder creeping him out,) as though he was finished having a say about this. But Gold wanted to know more — for Yellow —

_Oh, crap_, Gold thought savagely, hitting himself hard in the head as Ataro looked at him startlingly. _Yellow's disappearance alone makes me want to _learn.

"I — the _manuscript_, it'll help me know," said Gold curtly, already hurrying forward — cutting across Barty, even — to flip the pages of the document at a certain place, feeling Ataro shaking limply at his back.

Once he'd already reached the table — creakingly — he wasted no time opening the manuscript at the very middle of the thick pages — at first, Gold thought this was complete rubbish, and made to turn the page, but when he saw something that caught his eye, he stopped for a second and decided to read.

**SIDE-EFFECTS OF JEWELS**

Curious, Gold leaned lower to read all the side-effects. That's strange. . . If Kyogre, Groudon and Rayquaza were a legendary trio, then won't there be a _third_ orb? Even Gold thought that out — and he wasn't supposed to be a very smart kid, but he does all the detective work. He felt Ataro lean closer to get a good look and he purposely let him down; Ataro, being swift in movement — but not as elegant as before — had landed on the table like a cat, but didn't move his eyes from the manuscript. Gold figured that it was only interested in looking at the words, and resorted to reading.

_**During my years as a researcher of Mirage Island, collecting facts and details, sacrificed more than my youth to discover, and something more than my youth but perhaps limbs and bones, I have outstandingly uncovered a secret that most others can't define — I have the knowledge of a thousand men, and I have the wisdom of Professor Oak, who, of course, had been stationed to stay there in his own account with his grandson, leaving his granddaughter in the island — whose whereabouts are unknown. I have witnessed the unexpected — have uncovered the secrets of Mirage Island — with the help of my knowledge and intellect —**_

Gold wisely chose to skip this annoying part where Barty kept on bragging about his 'knowledge' and his 'wisdom' and all the crap. That was really vexing — scowling, Gold skipped a few paragraphs and was surprised that he'd went on and on about himself for an entire _page_ with the smallest and the most slanting writing he's seen yet. Ataro retreated a few steps on the table and eyed the manuscript carefully, already reading the next page upside-down. Finally, he found what he wanted to read by scanning the two pages carefully — _it was at the very last paragraph_.

Bloody hell — then that must mean that Barty's spent a long time writing this book and more than half of it was about _himself_.

Anyway, Gold focused on reading the paragraph carefully and absorbed its writing and let a voice echo in his mind's ear that vibrated throughout his head that was meant to read the script written.

_**Each of the two Jewels will only choose a trusted being that is able to absorb it with the counterpart of the inheritor of the other Jewel of the same skill and power — brute strength and mind-cracking knowledge is practically useless: but one must master the mind and control the emotions without exploding in anger, or, in some cases, to depression. This could stress the body of the being and die — the Jewels, only be tampered with ignorance, will force the being to absorb it with every fibre of its body and the chances of the being to die increases. **_

_**Once that happens, the being — henceforth called, 'Chosen,' because the Jewels will have to choose its master for itself — will have the side-effects of having absorbed the two Jewels.**_

_**One side-effect of absorbing the Indigo Jewel is experiencing sudden hot-headedness and anger — the same goes with the Crimson Jewel. The Indigo Jewel makes the iris of the Chosen's eyes a clear, crystal blue — an icy, piercing one. Another is the sudden growth of nails — the length of them will depend on the age of the beholder — and, as for the Crimson Jewel, its counterpart, the Chosen's canine will bear and grow lengthier. **_

_**The Crimson Jewel makes the beholder swifter, and more cunning — sensing the emotions of those nearest him. Also, when the Chosen has been stressed with either anger or depression, his eyes will turn a different shade of scarlet.**_

_**Lastly, the Indigo Jewel gives the Chosen a sharper mind — and the addition of reading others' thoughts by keeping eye contact —**_

Gold stopped dead there, frozen in his tracks. Raising a trembling hand, he placed it on the table to stop himself shaking: but his shakings had been passed on and the table, too, was now quaking — Ataro had to stand on two feet just to not fall over. Gold didn't like this. . . He didn't like this at _all_. He stared at the manuscript, not reading at all, but then again, his eyes were bouncing off his eyeballs. He felt Barty moving toward him — at the corner of his eye, he saw Barty unsmiling now; but a serious and placid expression replaced his leering, ugly face.

Gold faced Barty, his eyes widened, ready to leap away from him, but there was no other way to go. His eyes were icy — there were very different from their usual cerulean sheen, and there was almost a scary air to the situation that changed Gold's rage. With a look of terror, Gold tried to move his lips, but almost in a voice of a whisper, he said:

"You're a — you're a monster. . . You've let the — let the Orb —"

"Yes," rasped Barty, looking down at his own hands, no trace of a leer in his expression. Gold wasn't done yet, but Barty seemed to want to finish it for him. . . He couldn't believe it. Gold involuntarily raised a trembling finger and pointed it at Barty, spluttering noiselessly. "I've touched the Indigo Jewel — or, as now known, the Blue Jewel or Orb."

* * *

><p>"S-so, you definitely think there's some bloke who wants the Jewels?" said Yellow, a little perplexedly: she raised an eyebrow and it disappeared right under the shadows of her hair and sat a little straighter on her bed, casting both Red and Green a confused look while also playing with Gold's goggles. She thought it right awkward to finally take off her straw hat in front Red and Green — who looked like they were used to it. It just feels . . . kind of weird now that Red knows.<p>

Red shrugged whereas Green's solemn expression twisted to an oddly nicer emotionless one that seemed to be much more relaxing than his usual serious look: it was great to see him not grunting in pain just because Yellow's been accidentally wiping a cloth against his lips or something for once in 2 hours, but then again, his scars were still open, as were Red's, though they stopped bleeding, so that's a good thing.

"Yeah," said Red, pulling on a more relaxed face despite his apparent cuts and scars — Yellow did her best on trying to stop the bleeding, yet, halfway through the operation, Red was a bit private about where his scars were stinging, so he forcefully — though no one ever did impose him — had to take the bathroom and bandage them himself. His smile seemed to radiate throughout the entire air-conditioned room: Yellow felt her heart melt. "We reckon there'd be someone who'd want power — but, as Spider Man said, great power comes with great responsibility: If you injure yourself, then it's your job to fix your injuries."

"They don't understand," snapped Green suddenly, in a voice so cold that Red's smile's effect froze solid and the room turned cooler. Yellow turned to look at him; surprisingly, Green didn't look away but was focusing his gaze on — but Yellow was positively sure he had nothing to look at and absentmindedly landed his eyes on it — the freezer under the table that was being sit on the television. "They don't understand the pain — what if they were the ones who'd touched the Orbs? That'd be great. I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my miserable life in this hell place and I'd be home-free."

"Don't say that!" said Yellow, jumping to her feet: in her pink, buttoned pyjamas — which she'd hidden until the right moment, when Red finally figured out she was a girl — she stared at Green almost worryingly. "Your life is not worthless! I mean, you got to meet Red, didn't you?"

"I could've met him back anywhere in Pallet Town: we're neighbours, anyway," said Green carelessly. Yellow stared at the both of them: they lived in Pallet Town . . . not far from Viridian . . . On the contrary, you just have to travel at least a few thousand yards to get there . . . then that must mean that —

"You lived in Kanto!" exclaimed Yellow, pointing a finger at Green, who merely raised his eyebrows. Red didn't seem too surprised: but his reason was quite different from Green's. He got up from his bed, wearing a light-coloured shirt that seemed to have faded away over the years and was wearing a pair of pants that was supposed to have its partner pyjama shirt, but, Yellow guessed, it seemed to have been lost or ripped apart.

"I already told you that haven't I?" said Red, cocking his head a bit — Yellow thought that he might have been over-guessing things a bit, since she didn't recall him saying he did live in Pallet Town: but something remained in her mind that told her he did once tell her he was in Kanto. When was it again?

Green looked at the both of them — upwards because they were standing on the beds — and shook his head.

"Wh-when was it again?" said Yellow sheepishly, popping the question, feeling all her seriousness being sapped away. Green, whose hand was massaging his forehead roughly, suddenly let go of his head and it hit against the wall. He muttered swears darkly under his breath as Yellow tried to pay attention to Red, whose balance was suddenly lost and was determined to keep it.

"What do you mean, when was it again?" said Red, his voice rising a little. Firm to take on the defensive as Yellow raised her eyebrows, puzzled, Red's face burned with embarrassment as he recalled the incident. He stood his ground this time when Yellow fidgeted in her stance, looking sceptical. How could she not remember? When Yellow saw that he was getting uncomfortable, she forced herself to rack her brains and try to recall if he had mentioned, even once, he'd lived in Kanto. "You know — we were in that cavern!"

Red felt his impatience rise to its peak along with his embarrassment, Red nearly regretted on telling Yellow when he'd mentioned he lived in Pallet. Yellow felt that this was all her fault that Red seemed to look so nervous about something she still couldn't remember. Reluctant and red-faced, Red went on, "We were talking about —"

"OH!" exclaimed Yellow, her face heating up as well. Comprehension dawning across her face, she cuffed her mouth with her hands and understanding seemed to go up her brain again — then she remembered she was supposed to be mad about Red for something. . . But what? Red was suddenly too _colourful_ to say anything, and he bit his tongue from saying anything. Then something that reminded Yellow of what she was supposed to be mad about, then she scowled, but didn't say anything.

"Let's skip this discussion where I don't know anything, all right?" said Green peevishly. Red stared at Green, shooting him a dirty look — odd, Yellow thought. Shouldn't he be glad that Green had changed the subject? What she meant to say was that, not that she _wanted_ Green not to change the subject, but she was just wondering — and Green seemed recently annoyed nowadays about subjects not associating him. Green went on indifferently, but there was something in his voice that made Yellow think that he knew all eyes were on him, "And let's get to the point in here: Red, I've got to ask you something."

"What?" said Red crabbily, squinting his eyes. Green raised his eyebrows almost as though he'd realized something lazily.

"Don't give me that tone," said Green patiently. "I'm on your side."

Red, who seemed as though he'd been hit a nerve, and apparently, was thinking that Green was having some kind of cocky imperturbability or something, grudgingly plopped down on the bed again and glared at Green: was it just Yellow's imagination, or were Green and Red acting as though they were forced to be friends, like they can't stand each other?

When Red settled down, Green decided it best to now speak on his will, "You don't think that . . . Kyogre and Groudon have been awakened, do you?"

"What? Why?"

Red eyed Green carefully. Green sighed and seemed to want to say what he wanted to say in the shortest manner possible, if not the quickest, and he replied coolly, "Just tell me. Because I think they have."

"There's not anyone who's been possessing the Jewels but us," explained Red thoughtfully. Indeed; Yellow thought that, for the first time, Red was right and Green wrong. It was just impossible.

"Yeah, I know, but . . . how could you be so sure?" said Green, rubbing his chin in deep thought — he looked so pensive, he absentmindedly stared at Yellow's feet all the while: whereas Yellow, realizing his gaze and was mindfully aware that he wasn't going to take his eyes off there soon, thought quick and hastily plopped down her bed, choosing not to look at Green.

Red seemed to be thinking about this thoroughly because he was really quiet: time stretched into 30 seconds and right now, everyone's eyes were on him — even though 'everyone' only meant Yellow and Green. Even as Yellow watched, Red was blinking several times every now and then; he seemed conscious that everyone was looking at him, and he fidgeted once in a while. It was then that Yellow decided to think about this situation herself; in hindsight, there could be hundreds of persons who'd had their hands on the Jewels before them . . . so it could easily be evaluated that they're still alive, at least, not all of them. But that person must be really young to have touched it to still be alive today. . .

After a while, Green diverted his eyes to the clock above the television: Yellow turned to look at the direction as well, and once she did, her heart skipped a beat: it was already a quarter to 3 o'clock.

Green suddenly made up his mind and stood from his bed abruptly, giving a small cough when he did.

"Where are you going?" asked Red, cringing. Green, who made his way to the sliding door already, and still didn't look at Red when he answered, "The Seniors are gonna look up in the dormitories every now and then."

"Seniors?" yelped Yellow. "Wha — they're the sort of Hall Monitors here, right? Since when?"

"Since two days ago — they can't stand any more escapes because of me. They sort of think they lack security or something," said Green simply, sliding out of the door and out. Yellow, unblushingly, shouted after him before he even had time to close the door shut, "You can't leave me here!"

Green stopped for a second — for a moment, Yellow wanted to regret what she'd said. Blushing furiously, she awaited Green's next movement, half-hoping that he either ignored it or didn't hear it — she avoided Red's eye purposely because she knew he knew she couldn't stay in the dormitory with him having known she was a girl entirely now. The sliding door seemed to have been moving left and right probably because Green was deciding whether or not to leave her alone in this or to go inside and help her.

Finally, Green changed his mind and went inside, looking patient.

"What?" he said tolerantly, letting himself in through the sliding door with a tone of irrelevance. Yellow guessed that he chose this to be the only time he'd bail her out, and thought this to be her only chance.

"I — you — Red knows I'm a — I can't sleep in the same room _he_ sleeps in —" said Yellow awkwardly, avoiding everyone's eye as she dropped her gaze from Green and switched to looking at her shuffling feet, twiddling her fingers nervously — heat was rising up her face and she knew she was burning, and didn't want to show them that. She heard a sort of coughing noise behind her and she knew it was Red.

Even though Yellow wasn't looking, she knew Green raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. "You're not saying that you want to stay in _my_ dorm —?"

"No! I'm — where — you have a d-dorm mate?" stuttered Yellow uncertainly — unsure of what to say next, Yellow pulled herself together and stared at Green's emerald-green eyes stupidly and let herself sink into them; she had to be definite if Green was angry with her . . . had to let Green know she was solemn and sincere. . . Otherwise, she'd just receive another rage and get it over and done with. She knew she was blushing, but at least not as much as before. . .

"I do have a dorm mate," said Green, the corners of his lips drooping. Then, in another tone of voice quite different from his last one, he said, as sharp and shrewd as ever, "You're not telling me you'd rather sleep with me than with Red—"

"That's not what I meant!" snapped Yellow, then she casted Red a sort of fleeting look, and turned back to Green, feeling herself losing patience and her once-pale skin colour — she saw Red not help smirk at this and scowled — she shouted at him, "I swear — if I had to choose between you and him — not that I will, but if —"

"Are you implying," said Green, who was definitely smirking now, toying with Yellow's patience, "that you're repulsed by the idea of sleeping with—"

"NO! It's not like that — I don't —"

"You're telling me you even enjoy it?" said Red both incredulously and amusingly at the corner of the room, who, though unlike Green, was listening carefully to Yellow's words but half-heartedly enjoying this game. Yellow's eyes widened and she stomped her feet on the ground furiously.

"I neither enjoy it nor take no pleasure in it!" she said seething with anger, through gritted teeth, watching Green, who for the first time was delighted with something so much he was smirking, and Red, who had been having a fit of blushing. "And in fact, I'd rather sleep underwater being squeezed by the giant squid than with either you two!"

There was a kind of painful silence that made Yellow regret what she's told them and guilt exploded inside her stomach — Green looked as though he'd been slashed with a sword — his cuts and scars didn't help Yellow's conscience — and he was staring at her with utmost horror and coldness; he looked abject and really pathetic. She really expected a retort — a rather perverse one and reminded herself to remind herself later to make a punishment for thinking that — from Green and support from Red.

Red, on the other hand, she saw at the corner of her eye, had sat there in silence, with an emotionless expression across his face that rivalled Green's usual look; his lips curled pitifully and he locked eyes with Yellow's for a moment, then he dropped his gaze to the floor and ran his fingers through his hair — that was when a nerve inside Yellow told her it anticipated another uncomfortable discussion. He looked as though he wanted to start an explanation, then he changed his mind and clicked his tongue.

"God," he breathed unsmilingly. Green didn't drop his gaze from Yellow, who knew full well he was watching him closely, and turned to look at Red instead. "I'm — I didn't. . . I'm sorry —"

"I'm sorry," mumbled Green, sighing with remorse. And, before Yellow could even glance at him, he turned heel and walked through the sliding door, closing it shut. Red and Yellow were left in the room . . . alone.

Yellow opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it, changing her mind about what she had to say: it was lame. She looked at Red apologetically and wanted to explain something to him before he would.

"It's all right," he mumbled, pulling on a smile. "I know you'd rather sleep with Green —"

"No," said Yellow, a little of defiance left in her. Red gave her another nice smile.

"'Course you would. There's no need to lie in front of me —"

"I'm not saying this to cheer you up," snapped Yellow, blushing. She stared at Red for a while, convincing herself that she's trying to be a friend, not flirting. He stared at her blankly back, which made her think more seriously that he wasn't catching her drift. She went on like a teacher trying to prove a confused student which is fact and which is fiction, "I'm saying it because it's the truth."

At first, Red looked a little surprised — his eyes were solemnly showing mild astonishment and sincere respect for Yellow of admiring him that way — not _that_ that way — and he seemed a little taken back, since he's rarely been told he's well-regarded.

Yellow blushingly looked back at Red, biting her lip nervously: when she rephrased what she's agreed to over and over again, it sounded as though she'd agreed to literally _sleep_ with him. This, fortunately, went unnoticed to Red, whose head was about as thick as 10 cores of the earth itself.

When Red regained himself, he looked not uneasily flattered, but simply had just looked as though been commented, once again running his fingers through his hair when he said, after clicking his tongue, "Whoa. I just didn't think you've had it bad — you know — sleeping in the same room I am. . . I'd have thought you'd be embarrassed or something. I'm quite flattered."

Before Yellow could even move, though, he made his way toward the pillow of his bed, pulling on the covers. Shrugging, Yellow followed what he did and placed Gold's goggles on the bedside table, staring at it — she never thought she'd miss those amber-gold eyes. . . Her amber-brown eyes reflected on the glass and she could just imagine Gold's face staring back at her. . .

But her thoughts were disturbed when Red's head plopped down his pillow on the bed opposite her, which was just the direction where she was looking at.

He noticed the deep look of nothingness in Yellow's eyes and — Yellow wanted to slap her hand across his face, but didn't take the risk — his eyes travelled from her face down to her _torso_ and the _rest_ of her until he focused his eyes back to her face: Yellow found herself locking eyes with Red and that was when she knew he was smirking.

But sooner than she could ask him just what the _hell_ he was looking at, he faced the wall opposite of Yellow and said in a rather constricted, perverse voice, "Cute pyjamas."

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME**_**: Excellent! Now Freshmen is 3rd to 4th place in Chess in the Intramurals! Thanks to ME, I let my guard down on the Junior, been HURRYING on the Sophomore because I've still got DARTS, and . . . that's it =P I won against the Senior, so that's good =P But can you BELIEVE that Freshmen lost to Softball by DEFAULT?**_

**YELLOW: _You WERE the only member to show up. . ._**


	24. The Wrong Jewel

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**My last chapter took me just 10 days to come up with and now. . . Meh, I'll think about that later. IT'S MY SEMESTRAL BREAK! WHEEEEEEEEEEE!**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**Moonlight Obsidian Frost Zanpakto19: Hahahaha X3 Well, if it were Amber, then that would just be awkward since Yellow and Gold are COUSINS. And as for Feeling — well — it wouldn't ruin the story exactly, and I've got a plan for SPECIAL! And yeah, I just can't resist typing a perverted Red =P Have a cupcake or two ^-^**_

_**XXX: Glad you liked it ^-^ Oh, and have a great birthday! (?) Nineteen? That's a pretty young age, if you ask me. . . But if I've been given a chance to stay young forever, I'll regret it if I say yes =( I'll pick time over youth, any day: fix my past mistakes, you know. . . Anyway, thanks for reviewing! Please accept my token of appreciation! (SHOVES A FEW CUPS OF ICE CREAM ON YOUR FACE)**_

_**Split Heart 1120: Wow. Now that you mention it: NO. . . =o That's a really awkward realization for me. . . THANKS(?) Please — as your worshipper — agree to eat this SLICE OF CAKE! TAKE THREE!**_

_**Yay Soul X3: Yup! Nice to see you catching up a lot! Oh, and the giant squid thing was from my friend's idea =P He exaggerates a lot, my friend. . . Anyway — I couldn't have said it better myself! Red's kind of . . . well, I can't put my finger to it XD But he's not actually perverse, he's just, erm, not USED to having a girl with him, I guess, so he acts kinda differently toward Yellow, but he still looks up to her as a friend even though he's treating her like he's flirting with her X3 But, aside from that, you're right =P Here, don't mind taking my TREAT!**_

**GOLD: **_**I can't help but notice that there's a connection between EVERYONE. **_

**ME: **_**What d'you mean?**_

**YELLOW: **_**Yeah, I think I've noticed as well. Is this one of your thinking that eventually leads to another thread of a loose end that will somehow tie itself into a knot in the end?**_

**GOLD: **_**What the hell —**_

**ME: **_**EXACTLY! =D Oh, and PS, sorry for the wrong LOGS, since it probably takes me two weeks to make a new chapter, so I've lost track _o Oh, and I've already put how fast time's going in Mirage Island! YIH! And since Mirage Island's way quicker than Hoenn is, it's already MORNING in Yellow's time and still a few seconds' passed in Gold's time! Nice?**_

**23****rd**** CHAPTER: THE WRONG JEWEL**

**LOG TEN**

**DAY 38 OF MIRAGE ISLAND; PRESENT TIME — FAST**

**SAME TIME, SAME DAY; SKY PILLAR'S ISLAND**

**G**old stared at Barty, open-mouthed — he just couldn't believe it. . . At the corner of his eye, he could see Ataro inching his way behind his back, but Gold was openly focused on staring at Barty, whose hands — and, hopefully, his fingers — were now being tucked safely into the long sleeves of his toga. Feeling his feet trembling Gold absentmindedly moved his hand backward to feel its way to the corner of the table behind to stop the shaking.

"You — you're a monster," he breathed, his eyes wide. Barty just nodded curtly, watching his every movement: Gold tried to choose his words as best as he could. He's been a monster all this time and Gold has been treating Barty as an old bleeder — he could've _ripped_ him apart all that time but he didn't. . . Then a thought suddenly ran through Gold's mind when he thought the word, '_time_.' He scrunched his eyebrows and mustered all the courage he could get and said, "Yellow. . . Yellow mentioned you stayed here for a long time because you wanted something in Mirage Island. . ."

"Your cousin was very smart to have thought that out," rasped Barty, a sneer playing his dry lips (Gold tried not to gag, then passed it as a flinch.) "Smarter than you, in fact. . ."

"Yellow?" repeated Gold carelessly, stalling time just to whisper an instruction to Ataro behind his back. "She's got a head thicker than a rock."

"She's ingenious, your cousin," Barty went on, ignoring Gold's remark. Then Gold could hear the unmistakable sounds of nails being sharpened against each other: he had better make his instruction to Ataro quick, because Barty seemed to have been prepared for an attack under his sleeves. _Literally_. "But foolish. Haven't I specifically told her not to follow me? Haven't I already told her not to get herself in the sandstorm? Haven't I _said_ to her to get back in the tower? Haven't I _explained_ to her this island was dangerous?"

"She couldn't follow your orders, she doesn't trust you," Gold spat through gritted teeth, taking a brave step forward. He knew Barty won't cringe or make a flinch, so he expected him to stand his ground; Barty had to crane his neck just to face Gold. Gold knew at once he was at an advantage when he scowled. "If she doesn't trust an old git like you, why should I?"

Barty's lips curled unpleasantly — there was something about the look in his eye that made Gold signal Ataro on the instruction. He felt Ataro nod behind him as he focused his eyes on Barty's, which were now turning a savage, icy, cold blue sheen — Ataro leapt from his back, charging after Barty: Barty raised his hands, showing his long, sharp nails — Gold retreated as step or two, avoiding Barty's supposed-attack —

Footsteps were growing louder and louder, but nobody paid much attention to it — Barty managed to dodge Ataro's _Fury Swipes _and had kicked the ground, purposely aiming himself at Gold, ready to slash him, raising his ugly nails—

"What the _hell _have you two been doing?"

Gold dropped to the ground, sliding against the wall, panting — Barty lamely lost balance and fell to the floor on his back — he winced, but Gold didn't give a damn how it felt, he deserved it — and Ataro had cat-likely landed on the wet, wooden floor, simply looking as though it were watching the scene pleasantly.

Apparently, Uncle Wilton had found his way inside the hut, dripping wet from the rain. Thunder roared outside, and there was enough light to see the look of horror and anger ostensible on Uncle Wilton's sopping wet face. His beanie wasn't even able to hold his black hair coming out of it — his short hair that was usually hidden beneath his hat was now scattered all over his forehead: he had obviously pushed himself to his limit when he had to unlock the door outside.

Barty and Gold caught each other's eye and they glanced back at Uncle Wilton, who was demanding an answer.

Gold stood up first, patting his clothes — which were both wet with the rain and dirt was now sticking to it — and facing his uncle, ready to tell the truth at last to someone sane.

"Uncle — Uncle — he's not what you think — he's not what _we_ think — he's actually a monster —"

"What rubbish is this, Gold?" Uncle Wilton demanded, stomping his shoes on the wooden floor. He looked from Barty, then to Gold. "Is this true, Barty?"

"Actually, it seems as if the boy is shrewder than you," said Barty. Uncle Wilton's frown was replaced by a look of pure terror: he raised his foot, wincing, and gasped.

"You — what Gold's saying's — _we've been living with a monster for a month?_" said Uncle Wilton, putting things together with his head, revolted. He was trembling madly: Gold wanted to waste no time in asking Barty what he wanted to earlier when he still had the chance.

"Barty!" he shouted, making Barty's ugly head turn toward him. Gold gulped, forgetting his face was that hideous and pushed back down what was supposed to come up from his stomach. Uncle Wilton, too, had turned to look at him. "I asked you a question! What is the thing you wanted back at Mirage Island? What's its purpose to you and what does it concern my cousin!"

Ataro flinched, raising his foot, at the corner of the room. Uncle Wilton, still clueless, didn't say anything just to let Barty answer. His eyes averted back to Barty, who had already regained his form by standing up with the help of his crane that was just sitting there by the corner. He glared at Gold, hating him — Gold cast him a more despicable look and scowled. If Uncle Wilton weren't there, Barty would have at least not given him the answer and not attack him at most; his eyes were turning a very dangerous icy colour and Gold tried to fix his mind on the questions — he was now sure that he could read his mind, so he's gonna be careful of what he says . . . or thinks.

"Thirty minutes ago," began Barty, whose face contorted in reluctance, with a tone of deep dislike that Gold was pleased to hear him use, "you've seen the magnificent green, long-tailed pokémon fly at the peak of Sky Pillar. You know that that pokémon is associated with Kyogre and Groudon — but what you don't know is that there was supposedly a rumour that, once Mirage Island had been banished into the time and space of Hoenn, and Rayquaza had maintained peace and order between the two creatures, Kyogre swam deeper into the seas of Hoenn and back to its slumber — however, Groudon, having destroyed its piece of land in the battle, had found another shelter to slumber —"

"You're not saying that — it couldn't possibly be — there wasn't any other choice. . ." muttered Gold, eyeing Barty with his eyes wider than it had once been when he realized Barty was a monster — Barty's lip curled again, and his eyes glinted almost as slyly as Gold's had.

Uncle Wilton, however, having not understood the matter of the situation, had given up trying to think of any questions to ask them earlier, but now had heard the interesting story, he listened carefully and analysed the condition, and he shot his head up, finally grasping the truth, but still not understanding how important the circumstances were, he said simply, "Groudon could have easily burrowed the ground of the land nearest him, which is . . . Mirage Island?"

"Yes," said Barty, who was definitely showing his detestable sneer. Gold, trembling with rage, had clenched and unclenched his fists, glaring at Barty with such detestation he was actually turning purple: so he didn't really want to rescue Yellow, huh? "Unfortunately, there was a mistake. As you can see, I was friends with the two guardians of the Jewels. They let me guard them for a while — they had to go take care of their twin grandchildren, see, and their usual sitter, Spenser, was out because he was summoned with reasons unknown to me. I reached out to hold the Blue Jewel, because it was most probably the one to control the land pokémon, Groudon, but I was wrong —"

"You've touched the wrong Jewel. Why didn't you touch the other one?" said Uncle Wilton slowly, catching things up fast. Barty's sneer was replaced by an even uglier look.

"The Jewels have indescribable power — I haven't anticipated such control over my body and soon, I was lifted off my feet and thrown into the air, and the sensation was similar to being electrified," said Barty, absolutely scowling at the memory: that lightened Gold's mood a bit, but was ineffective to anything else. "I couldn't bear to touch the other Jewel once more, because my body can't take it; the control over me was too much, and I'd fainted.

"My friends have healed me in time, when they came back. Once they did, the Jewels were both gone in my unconsciousness. It was then that I've decided to look for the Jewels and take them back to my dear friends — while also promising them that once I find them, Hoenn will be a better place. . . So I've stationed myself in this island, off the coast of Pacifidlog — and it isn't a coincidence that this is where the Sky Pillar is, also."

"Why've you placed yourself in the island where Sky Pillar is?" asked Gold curiously, his breathing slow.

"I've come here to study Rayquaza," replied Barty patiently. "As a treaty to another friend — and I was just getting there. My friend, who is about as old as me, but much stronger and can handle himself, has been a researcher, and he's come visiting me in the island twice — then, at the second time, I told him the legend of Mirage Island, and, in return, he told _me_ about the rumour that Groudon, having no more land to burrow, dug himself in Mirage Island after the Battle. His research also tells me that he located the whereabouts of Groudon — and it's in the exact same space and time as Mirage Island was. Also — at that same, second visit — he's brought with him his two grandchildren, who were easily recognized as siblings because of their unusual shade of emerald-green eyes.

"That night, he was taking a stroll with his grandson, the younger of the siblings who was, I think, seven, at the time, and Mirage Island appeared above the peak of Sky Pillar. Excited, he took his stuff and, not even bothering to bring his other grandchild, set off," finished Barty reminiscently, frowning: he focused his gaze upon the open window, where rain was pouring heavily. "That was when he left a paper of his research. . . Interested, I read it. To my surprise, _he_ was the thief who stole the Jewels while I was unconscious. . ."

"Your friend. . ." began Uncle Wilton, whom Gold has guessed was thinking the same as he was, whose shoulder was now occupied by a shaking Ataro. ". . . Who is he?"

Barty dropped his crane. He slowly turned his head toward the both of them, his other eye being shadowed, so that only two gleams of icy-blue lights were staring back at Gold and Uncle Wilton. "My _brother_ was the thief from the stories in the manuscript. . . _He_ took the Jewels and caused the fight between Groudon and Kyogre . . . He was a fool — and Samuel Oak sure _was_ a fool for stealing them again when my guardian friends retrieved the Jewels from the island before it was banished. . . Oak may be a fool . . . but he was ingenious."

* * *

><p>The sun's rays had woken Yellow, who, for once, had a great slumber in bed last night. Awake, but still not opening her eyes, she gave a soft moan as the shower turned up in the bathroom. Who the hell would shower this early of morning, anyway? Her eyelids, both of which she'd forced to clamp shut until the right moment, were twitching weightily, and this was starting to bother her a bit.<p>

She rumpled up her messy hair, eyes still closed, and decided that she'd get a proper haircut the time she'll step out of Mirage Island. . . Yellow gave a huge yawn, stretching her arms in bed, and plopped down her pillow again, waiting for sleep to come: but it didn't, at least, not in the next 9 seconds. There was another noise in the bathroom that made absolutely no sense, and Yellow forcefully — if sarcastically — had to put her pillow over her head to block the noise and groaned: she knew it was already Monday, and this was supposed to be her thirty-eighth day in Mirage Island or something. . . And she was going to spend it alone — another day spent alone by her and her only.

What a pathetic life.

But she had to admit, Yellow thought, not helping a smile; the cushions here sure are softer than sleeping on the carpet at Barty's hut. And it was even more relaxing when she finally had to sleep in her pyjamas than the same thing over and over and, to top it all, she doesn't even have to wear a hat in her sleep: she's never been so happy in days.

. . .

That's . . . an odd sort of realization when she came to think about it: Red's already known who she truly is — now what? She's never had a best friend quite like him, and quite frankly, she doesn't know how to treat Red. He's supposed to be in school today — but judging by the state of him last night, she'd guessed he's going to have to stay in is dorm — she gulped — with _her_ for the rest of the day. And surely _Green's_ going to come over and check how they're doing. . .

Some life in Mirage Island's gonna be.

"Bloody _hell_," she muttered, with a sort of amused dreading; she wanted to have _someone _accompanying her the whole day, so she's stuck with _Red_. Just her cup of tea. She rolled around her bed, finally opening her eyes: she's only had a few hours' sleep, and that thought will never leave her: she made a pact with herself she'd grow at least a few inches in this island.

Staring at the ceiling, Yellow wondered how long she'll wait for Red to come out of the bathroom to ask him a question. At last, she made up her mind on asking him.

"Oi, Red!" she called, knowing that this was going to get a bit awkward since this was the first day they were going to endure knowing Yellow's a girl. She used her usual voice, so that Red won't get freaked out about something as normal as 'high-pitched voice' or something — he was used to hearing her that way, anyway. "You think you'll still be able to go to Crescens?"

A muffled sound of someone gurgling answered her, "I bummlo. . . Bebembs, I gleress. . ."

"What?" Yellow mouthed to herself, pulling on a sceptical look that was a mixture of perplexity and revulsion. She managed to lift herself up the bed and sit on a position, staring at the bathroom door.

There was suddenly a sound of a faucet being turned — Yellow's instincts took over her and she had to seize the pillow from behind just to cover her face when the door of the bathroom opened — she heard steam coming out, and Red shuffling his feet before he sighed. Still covered, Yellow's face burned with blushes: if this pillow gets away from covering her sight because of Red, this will be the _last_ time he will breathe.

"I said, 'I dunno — it depends, I guess,'" said Red in an odd tone of exhaustion. She felt his eyes on her slowly and she almost regretted covering her eyes. If Red would just display his usual knack of denseness, then maybe she'd just be saved—

"Have you. . ." began Red, in both perplexity and amusement. Something cold crept down Yellow's spine — _Damn, this bloke gets smarter by the day_. She tried her best to move the pillow away and to grudgingly move her eyes distractedly from Red, but there was still a grain of defiance and embarrassment inside of her that seemed to overtake the smaller, weaker one. ". . . fallen asleep while waiting your turn in the bathroom?"

_God his head's so thick._

Yellow, being both surprised to have heard that and relieved, she lifted her head slowly up the pillow and, while her vision's still blurry, gave Red a quick glance and nod — she didn't care how weird she's looked, at least she didn't have to spend another day dreading of what she saw — and rolled her feet to the side of the bed, reluctantly — she didn't even _plan_ on taking a bath this _early _— and waited until her vision's cleared: when it did, she moped from the bed, getting up, and made her way to the bathroom without giving Red much attention; usually — and _normally_ — _Red_ was the one to start a discussion.

When she'd passed Red, however, she noticed he was already in his usual outfit he wears as a formal wear. She halted in her steps, and stood straight, eyeing him. Red stopped drying his hair with his towel, so slowly catching up that Yellow was staring at him that Yellow was already speaking.

"Why are you wearing civilian?" she asked, her eyes of pure interest and curiosity. This was just out of pure curiosity, that's all. Red shrugged simply and sat on Yellow's bed, sighing.

"Well — haven't you thought out about this yet?" he said, staring at the floor. When Yellow didn't respond quickly enough — she guessed he guessed she didn't catch his drift — he lifted his head, his expression the solemnest Yellow's seen of him. Yellow lifted her foot in a late reaction, because all the while Red talked. "I don't know anymore. What _if_ we get out of Mirage Island? Is the education of Mirage Island here useless now? And what're Green and I gonna do for the rest of our lives outside here? . . . And Bill — he wants to get out as well. . ."

Come to think of it, Yellow's never thought about it that way before. Busting out of Mirage Island seemed so hastily thought out, so recklessly planned that, when you think about it, there wasn't even a plan at all. Yellow stared at Red, not believing him: it was one thing for Red to think about this, but to feel so sincere about it, it's just . . . not usual for Red. It just struck Yellow that one can be highly intelligent with being so dense about everything else at the same time.

"W-well," she began awkwardly — it was just straight strange to know that Red's smarter than her. . . But this doesn't mean he's stupid, but, Yellow thought, impressed, she never knew he had it in him. "Firstly — I'd like to know which of the questions you've asked me the _original_ one was. And, secondly — I don't think you've ever been so serious about something that you'd get to the point you'd look so smart."

Red's head — which was so firmly looking up at Yellow — had literally been hung downwards by himself. Before he did, however, Yellow could've sworn she's seen his left eye twitch involuntarily. Her remark must've been so _lame_, Red even had to twitch. A bit embarrassed, she rubbed her nasalabial fold — the place of the face that's between the upper lip and the nose — much like Gold did, and shrugged.

She felt a slight tickle in her neck and she had to slide her hand backwards so that her fingers were running through her hair — _not_ unlike Red — and scratched the back of her neck, staring at the floor uneasily.

She felt a great _pain_ on the head as she did: Red's shadow had eclipsed Yellow and that was then she knew he was playing with her — as usual, he was ruffling her hair like they were straightforward friends again.

Wincing, gasping for breath, Yellow had emerged from Red's wrist and out of his arm — but not of his grip. Her free hand, waving disused right to left and was, apparently out of Red's grasp, was trying its best to help Yellow free her from Red, but it uselessly limped waving around: her other hand had been trapped by the shoulder and was, unfortunately, as useless — Red just can't keep himself ruffling her hair.

"Oh, _Yellow_," he said, a bit sarcastically — fear had overwhelmed Yellow when she realized the tone of voice Red was using and, if she gulped, she'd most likely die not unlike being hung within Red's tight grasp. "You know too well that you're _smart_."

"G-get off me!" Yellow squealed, squirming: she knew this to not be good: in fact, this was the third time Red's done this to Yellow, so she knew all too well what he's going to finish her off with, and, at the first try, it was a bit _shocking_. That _bastard_ — Yellow took back what she thought of him as not being stupid. Red's smile grew wider and he, turning round, nailed her to the bed, laughing, and letting go of his grip, but cornering her with all his four limbs — his right hand constricting her left, his left constricting her right, his left leg draped over her right, and his right leg kneeling, but not constricting, next to her left. Red said in a satisfied and dignified voice, "But I'm smarter."

"Damn it, Red!" she said, half-angry with him, and the other half forcing her not to laugh. They stared at each other for a moment, looking at each other's eyes — he wasn't mad with her . . . he was just being an ordinary boy playing with his best friend. . . He'd nailed her to the bed — his bed, in fact — locking eyes with her: his beautiful crimson eyes wandered deeper into hers. . . Red's smile faded, and his expression became a bit more solemn and sheepish. . .

They lied there, waiting for the other to talk in bated breath, and each absorbed. . . Yellow just rested there, still and silent — Red couldn't possibly talk before her now, she knows him. Of course, she tried to move her lips, which were slightly apart from surprise of the realization and surprise, but then were just stuck there, letting out air. Red's body was slightly just on top of hers, but she could feel the tension between them — Red's leg gave a sort of slight twitch over hers yet he didn't seem at all nervous: in fact, he was so focused. . .

His palm was, apparently, becoming wet and Yellow felt her small wrist able to slip itself from its grip, but she didn't take the opportunity to do so — both were distracted, each in another space. . . Her eyes travelled from his face down to his shirt: it was then she'd remembered — she snapped back to reality, everything exploding before her mind's eye, and recalled she was being nailed on the bed with her best friend who just saw her once as a friend, but it all changed when she'd showed him she was truly a girl, whom she once saw as a stranger, in broad daylight, with her wearing her pink, buttoned pyjamas and him — _well_, some pair of torn pants and a faded shirt. He was on _top_ of her. . .

Red slowly got off her, but he wasn't staring down at the floor like he usually did when he was nervous, but was ogling at her, his eyes full of focused sincerity. . .

He stood up, straightening himself — he once again ran his fingers through his hair and couldn't help but not look away from her. "I'm sorry. . . I'm really, really sorry — I just — you know. . . I forgot —"

"What're you sorry about?" muttered Yellow — she was _not_ letting a completely awkward discussion ruin their — ahem — _friendship_. She barely had the strength to sit up straight and she had scrambled to get up. Red raised both his eyebrows and had pulled on a quizzical expression that was supposed to be out of mild surprise. "You forgot that I'm a girl?"

"N — yeah," said Red, casting Yellow a sheepish look.

"We're friends," said Yellow firmly, trying to convince Red that they were — something inside her made a shrill cry of despair: it, apparently, detested the idea of Yellow and Red being _just friends_. She mentally made a note to herself to slap herself awake and see reality: Red's just too dense to see she likes him. Hell, he even thinks fooling around with girls was not allowed; Yellow had to lie to herself that all she wanted to do was to be with him in the end, and that's just shallow and abusive — they're just friends, whether a part of her liked it or not. "Can't you just be, you know, normal around me?"

Red shrugged simply. Then a worrying frown appeared across his face. "You must've not had a bloke friend before me, have you? So you were pretty embarrassed the way I treated you —"

"E-embarrassed?" repeated Yellow in a sort of high-pitched yelp. Her face growing hot with uneasiness — because Red's quite figured her out — she had to bite her tongue from disturbing Red, whereas he threw her a sheepish expression once more.

"See? I've figured you out —"

"B-but you just can't be a hypocrite — not for me," Yellow stuttered bravely, catching even herself in surprise: Red's eyes widened, and he seemed to have shrunk. Mouth agape, he just stood there, waiting for what more Yellow could say: but she had nothing smart to say, just the stupid, cliché, "I'm used to you being a friend to me. You can't pretend."

Honestly, after four full seconds of silence, Yellow wished she didn't say all that. Surprisingly, Red managed to run his fingers once more through his hair.

"I guess you're right," he said, biting his lip. Then, with his normal smile, he said, "But the 'tackling-to-the-bed-making-awkwardness-ruler-of-the-room' thing isn't gonna work out fine, is it?"

"Y — yeah, I guess so. . ."

Again, Red showed his lack of intelligence by how easy he talks of things that make Yellow feel embarrassed such as asking her if pinning her to the bed wasn't going to be okay. But, at least, he's beginning to catch up, even if it _is_ a slow process.

Yellow lied again on the bed, her arms reflexing behind her head — it was strange to think that, almost after every question she's thrown at Red and Green's been answered, there's still something that seems to be missing. . . Now all they've to do is wait? What about the Jewels? Are they going to carry it along with them? Red sat on his bed opposite side of Yellow and seemed to be deeply thinking again.

"So?" Red asked, sighing. Yellow had the time to think. . . Red shuffled his feet on the floor. "If I _did_ get out of here way before now, maybe I could've even been a Junior now. And Bill'd have a job. . . And Green and I'll attend the same classes. . ."

"But you'd never have to meet me," said Yellow, thinking about this. She distractedly stared at the ceiling, but was entirely focused on the discussion they were having. When Red didn't continue, she went on, "Considering things round here, _would_ your life be better off without Mirage Island? I mean, it's pretty much the reason you've met Green and got to know me. . . And forget about your life — I mean, your parents did snuff it in the car crash — oh my god, I'm sorry!"

She managed to lift herself up from her lying position and had to plead to Red — _stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid —_

"It's all right," Red said, unfazed — Yellow stared at him: why was he so undaunted about the fact that his parents had died? He was just lying about being fine —

"No it's not — I'm really sorry, Red — I was being stupid —"

"No, seriously, it's okay," said Red, looking at Yellow — his eyes were telling her the truth. . . She knows it. As she eyed his face more closely, she remembered he was already injured . . . from last night. . . He'll never lie to her. When Yellow gave him a bewildered and puzzled look, he gave a small chuckle, which made her think that she was missing something. "Actually, it's practically nothing to me. If you're gonna ask again —" Red added sharply, seeing as Yellow was struggling to find a new problem — "— it's because I've literally forgotten about them!"

Yellow stared at him, her mouth wide open — she racked her brains to find of a good reason for Red not to give any resentment on his parents dying then him not attending their funeral and found absolutely none. Hell, she just left the small island for a long while and she's already dying to see Uncle Wilton and her cousin (but definitely not Barty yet.)

"Seriously! I can't remember any moment I've spent with them. . ." added Red easily, smiling. Yellow still wasn't convinced. . . She gave him another look that was absolutely not meant to hurt him. "I . . . honesty can't. If you can't get that, then I'd advise you to ask Green — he knows."

"Why not ask you?" asked Yellow curiously — how could he have forgotten? It wasn't as though his parents were bad or anything, and that's probably the only judicious reason she could find of Red — he definitely couldn't have gotten his kindness by himself, so Yellow guessed that it was probably of heredity. He shrugged.

"I don't really know," he said, now looking less cheerful, and his smile was wearing. "He said something about reading his grandpa's notes about the 'void' you enter once in Mirage Island. . . It's also the reason why you've been asleep so long — that aside, I'm really looking forward to getting out of here and, my life's goal, become a gym leader. . . Hey!"

Red's tone of voice had so suddenly changed — and Yellow's thoughts suddenly wandered off somewhere when Red mentioned the word, 'void' and she began thinking of things like, 'Oh, that's why' and 'Now I see' — she flinched when he nearly shouted.

"That reminds me — who do you think will be up to bringing Green and I in?" asked Red, a rather unsure and sceptical look on his face. Yellow, being still surprised by his abrupt call, had been slowly catching up to what he's saying. She had a while to rephrase what he said, and she concluded that Red was never so nervous in asking a question.

"The both of you?" she said, alarmed. "Surely you still have _money _left, right?"

"Oh yeah?" said Red playfully, chuckling, and he stood up and let Yellow — who was a bit puzzled at first, and even mistaken him for doing, er, _something _— see his attire: a faded, black shirt that nearly turned grey, and a pair of pants which were out of style for more than 7 years, worn and had holes that weren't patched. Yellow couldn't have felt a bit sorrier for him, and his cuts and scars didn't help because they streaked _right_ across his face and arms — he never, _ever_ had anything formal to dress up. And, come to think of it, the only person in Mirage Island she's seen wearing such formal clothes was —

"Everybody in this island wears stuff like this," he said, before Yellow could even continue her trail of thought, "except for —"

"Green," she finished, surprised. Red gave her a thumbs-up and he sat back down the bed again. That didn't make any sense . . . Everybody here already knew how to sew a shirt — why were they faded and stuff? And Green's not got to be the most moneyed of the island by _comparison_. . .

"Yep, and that's because he's Professor Oak's grandson," Red said, nodding his head. Yellow gave him another baffled look: what does that mean? Just because he's some famous bloke's grandson means he's got special treatment? Or that they're the only rich people in the island? Seeing as Yellow was having trouble absorbing all this, Red continued, lying down the bed across her, "Don't think of it that way. It's just that . . . they're the only people here who know how to dress up formally."

"What do —" she began, looking down at Red, sitting on a position with her legs crossed, facing Red's direction in idle curiosity, but Red placed a finger on her lips to silence her — she did, expectedly, but not in the way Red predicted: embarrassed, Yellow decided to not speak indefinitely — that _prat_.

"Don't you ever wonder where all the older blokes come from?" asked Red lazily, in an air that reminded Yellow of Gold. She opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it: come to think of it, no. Where _did_ they come from if the first persons to come here were _Green_ and _Professor_ _Oak_? That businessman she overheard talking to the unlikable — hell, detestable — barman seemed, like, more than _twice_ Red's age. He, for some reason, wore patched and threadbare clothes that were already frayed. . . He certainly doesn't know how to dress up formally. "They're actually blokes from all over nearby regions who'd want to make a change of life — some of them have been brought up here a year older than I was at the same time and I was one of them — you know how I got here, right?"

"It's because . . . you've accidentally brought up here when Mirage Island appeared somewhere in Hoenn?" suggested Yellow, interested. Red nodded.

"I've been an orphan," he went on, smiling reminiscently, "and, quite actually, I've forgotten about my parents whilst I travelled from that place to get here — I was unconscious for a few days, I think, and Professor Oak came inside the room they'd kept me in to check if I was all right.

"Then a few more others came in, forgetting their worries about their life before Mirage Island. Bill, who obviously was enjoying his life, had accidentally stepped in here. You could just imagine his face when he'd figured out he's in the wrong place where he's supposed to take a few photos of an Oddish or something." Red rolled his eyes uncharacteristically, and he flexed his arms and used it as a pillow, staring back at Yellow's face in amusement: who knew Bill's interested in photography? Yellow smiled at the thought. "But that doesn't quite answer your question as to why we never have newer clothes: you know there's not a single girl in Mirage Island aside from you, right? Well — _nobody_ here knows how to _sew_, so basically —"

"Oh _God_," said Yellow, laughing. Red, being clueless, raised his head from the bed, unbeknownst to him that Yellow had already reached for his pillow, and she threw it straight at his face playfully. "_Very_ sophisticated, Mister Crimson. You should've said that before connecting _everything_ with clothes."

"Ouch — what the hell?" said Red, half-laughing, and the other half wincing for dear life — he shielded his face from the mountain of pillows Yellow was now aiming to throw at him. Laughing as well, but with no more pillows to throw, Yellow watched as Red tried to gather them up so to throw some of them back at Yellow — but she was ready for this.

"RED! RED! LOOK!" she yelled, gasping, her eyes widening. Covering her mouth with her hand, she also pointed at the sliding door. Red, whose heart had skipped a beat, who had also put down his pillow, briskly glanced behind him — while she still had a chance, Yellow seized a pillow nearest her (even though she had to crawl across the bed to get it and aimed to throw at Red, smirking.

"I don't _see_ anyth — crap!"

Red already wheeled around to face his attacker, whom he knew full-well to be Yellow — she gulped and stopped laughing: making Red angry would be the second-last thing on her list — below 'Going to a beach with Blue and Gold' — and she did just that. . . But making Red _mock-angry _— then that's the end of her list —

"Clever, Yellow," said Red, a mischievous glint in his eye — Yellow flinched when he smirked — she backtracked a little, hitting the wall with her head, but there was no time for wincing in pain: her eyes were focused on only Red, and she didn't let them leave there distractedly. He was already in a battle stance, and that only meant he was ready to pounce at her —

"Oh — GOOD LORD!"

Red had already leapt from the floor — about just two feet — but it was amazing how he could do it with just his knees bent — Yellow didn't even had enough time to get out of the way when he cornered her once more against the wall, landing right on top of her.

Yellow, trapped, apparently, again, by Red, was more squashed than ever — she'd never been this close to a boy — not even as close as earlier — and, quite ironically, this boy was the one who _shared_ his room with her for the past few days — she still had to process that he was so near her, she could feel his breath hit her neck: she shuddered horrifyingly, but felt a rush of adrenaline the same. . . But . . . was she, if not uneasy . . . feeling a bit . . . _comforted_? _Relaxed_, even?

His forehead was already against hers, and his nose was just below her left eye — feeling embarrassed and flushed all the same, she just let herself get cornered there, expecting the worst to come: Red was still in the start of him subside his laughing fit — even he had stopped laughing. His breath was suddenly slowing down, Yellow could feel her neck getting goose bumps every now and then because of the leisureliness. . .

Yellow was stuck — she was lying against the wall on Red's bed — c_ornered _by the owner of the bed — and both her hands were restrained against the wall by Red — her left hand barely higher up than her head standing was being held by Red's right — and her right hand was being withheld by Red's left, her right elbow nervously striking her own ribs — but otherwise their feet were as tangled up as earlier: and that was the uncomfortable part. . .

Red's breathing had suddenly slowed down to the point of being unheard even through the concentrated silence of the room — his grip on her left hand had slackened and, her hand trembled from his grasp and when he finally let go after a small while, it, too, softly landed on the bed, but she just left it there. His hand moved toward her chin, which he held up a bit: his soft hand gently massaged it, and Yellow had completely lost her trail of thought.

She felt her legs like jelly, and Red's weight didn't help — but she didn't do anything about it, she just stared deeply into Red's eyes, letting herself sink into them. . .

Then reality flashed back toward her, and images of Red imploded from her mind's eye — God, he was about to finally —

Red slowly closed his eyes, and his head was slighting tilting downward — Yellow's heart was beating so fast it seemed too tired to continue, and her stomach had sunk so low it was probably in the other side of the world now — she wasn't going to let this happen . . . she promised herself . . . she wasn't going to lose her virginity — no, she won't. This would just be quick. . .

Wait.

Why was his head tilting _downward_ when it should be moving _forward_?

Yellow suddenly snapped back into reality — she found Red's head sunk so low she would've thought he was sleeping — oh f***, he looked like he _had_ been asleep the whole time —

But at that moment, the sliding door abruptly slid open — Yellow flinched, the worst situation to be predicted finally happening — Green, wearing civilian as well, had let himself in the dorm — he slipped between the small gap he made when he opened the door.

"Red, Yellow —"

He stopped, looking at the both of them —

_Oh shit._

"Bloody. . ."

"N-no! This isn't what you think!" stuttered Yellow, waving her hands frantically — her face was burning so much, she thought she was on fire: that . . . didn't help. Green was staring at the both of them in such shock and astonishment, she deeply regretted doing it — _almost_ doing it. Unbeknownst to her, though, his heart was quickly being broken into pieces.

Thankfully, timely, helpfully, and unexpectedly, Red's head lifted from her lap and he drowsily said, "Whowuzzat?"

_Shit_. So that meant he was _somnolent_ the whole while —? Ironic that _Yellow_ wasn't the one —

"What . . . are you doing?" asked Green — and, could it be relief that spread across his face? That was one question that didn't seem to be able to be answered.

Yellow, her eyes widened, opened her mouth to say something but Red cut across her.

"Oh, I just jumped at her — she threw a pillow at me after distracting me. . . Yeah, Yellow? I don't remember anything else after that," said Red, raising his head and turning to her — he beamed like the idiot he is.

Flushed with both embarrassment — for thinking that, for once, Red was finally thinking of something that's his level — anger — obviously — and gratefulness, Yellow scowled and muttered something about "fell asleep" and "nothing much."

"Anyway," said Green busily, as he closed the door of the dorm. He looked seriously at the both of them: Red got off immediately from Yellow, unknowing that she was glaring daggers at him and ready to kill him with her pokéball ready at the table, and faced Green. "I've got news — it wasn't coincidence we went rigid last night — I was right. Kyogre and Groudon — the both of them — have been _awakened_."


	25. Escaping

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Okie Dokie! This chapter's almost ALL gonna be about GOLD! Since they're lagging behind, I'm gonna have to shorten Yellow's point of view a bit, then she'll get a bigger role in the next chapter, and the Gold-Yellow POV thing'll go to a standstill for a while ^.^**_

**. . .**

_**All RIGHT! It's gonna be a normal week today! **_

**GOLD: **_**How's THAT all right? I mean, boredom kills, you know, and that's why they land criminals to jail. **_

**YELLOW: **_**I'm also a bit perplexed in the last chapter, though. **_

**ME: **_**What about?**_

**YELLOW: **_**I think I'll have to tell you later.**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**Split Heart 1120: Yup! That's GREEN for you =P It's just a shame I couldn't put Oldrival here because BLUE's not around. . . Thanks for reviewing! Have an ice cream cone =P**_

_**Yay Soul X3: OOOOOOOOH! I'm SOOOOOO SORRY! I REALLY AM! OH LORD, I'VE SINNED DX I APOLOGIZE (BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW) I think I had written it BADLY! DX Oh GOD . . . I'm really sorry. . . I had you think that Barty and Professor Oak are RELATED DX I'M REALLY SO SORRY FOR LETTING YOU THINK THAT! **_

_**I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT LETTING A PERSON KNOW I'M TRULY SORRY~I'M SOOOOOOO SORRY! TAKE THE WHOLE CAKE! IT'S YOURS! AAAAAAAALLL YOURS! IT'S A TOKEN OF MY APOLOGY! OH, YAY SOUL X3, I'VE JUST MADE ONE OF THE BIGGEST MISTAKES OF MY LIFE! Please listen to me; when I wrote that part, it was supposed to be of TWO DIFFERENT THIEVES. . . I'M SO SORRY! (BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW) BARTY'S BROTHER DIED IN THE BATTLE, AND PROFESSOR OAK'S STILL LIVING. PLEASE ACCEPT MY APOLOGY!**_

_**XXX: Aww ~ so sweet of you! Have a spoonful of syrup and a flan XD**_

_**Moonlit Obsidian Frost Zanpakto 19: LOL. Yep, serious. Thanks a bunch for reviewing! Get a load of my new recipe, the Cassava cake slice! O.O**_

_**ASDX: I'm gonna update soon because of all your support =) Thanks a lot! Oh, and the tradition; how about a cupcake? ^-^**_

_**ME: So, Yellow-san, what about your question? **_

_**YELLOW: Well, this took you about 3 WEEKS to finish. What made you so slow in updating?**_

_**ME: Oh, the second week of the completion of this chapter was Examinations. And besides — I DON'T HAVE A GREAT PLOT!**_

**23rd CHAPTER: ESCAPING**

**LOG ELEVEN**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY: MIRAGE ISLAND — FAST**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY; SKY PILLAR'S ISLAND — 3:48 AM **

"**W**hat utter crap do you mean?" demanded Uncle Wilton, as he looked from Gold to Barty — Gold didn't answer immediately, but just gulped: then that would explain why he wanted to come to Mirage Island in the first place. . . That just got back to what he said, doesn't it? He doesn't care about helping out on getting Yellow back. He just wanted to get that Jewel and summon Groudon — which were both on the same altitude and latitude: _Mirage_ _Island_. . .

"I'm still having trouble dealing with this. . ." muttered Uncle Wilton, being ignored.

Gold just glared at Barty, hating him — he could not describe how hot his stomach was boiling right now, and how much he suffered longing just to beat the living crap out of him. Damn it — if Uncle Wilton weren't just here. . . So that meant detestation of Barty had run through his veins — his brother had been the second-last of the generation of thieves who'd attempted to steal the Jewels: then he died in Mirage Island. The Jewels were then retrieved by a middle-aged couple at that time, and who were both the guardians. . . Gold tried his hardest to process everything Barty told him.

Then their children had twins — they were left to care for them meanwhile Barty was summoned to guard the Jewels for a few days. He'd touched the Blue Jewel, thinking it was most probably the Orb to control Groudon, but he was mistaken — blown back by such incredible power, he was knocked out for the next few days until his friends, the couple who'd left for taking care of their grandchildren, showed up and healed his internal injuries.

Yet the Jewels were stolen in his unconsciousness. The thief had run away, and Barty had made an oaf to get them back, while also promising them a newer, cleaner world, while also positioning himself in the island of Sky Pillar to monitor the movements of Rayquaza.

A few years later, his other friend, Professor Oak, visited him the first time; around the time he only had his first grandchild, who was young at the time. Barty promised Professor Oak he'd study the myths of Mirage Island after Professor Oak told him the rumour about Groudon still being at Mirage Island and his research about locating him. After that, he promised to visit him once more.

His second visit took a bit longer than Barty anticipated, and he'd already collected a lot of research. This time, he brought his second grandchild along with his first. Around a week of Professor Oak's visit of Barty in the island of Sky Pillar, Mirage Island appeared right above Sky Pillar, with the entire island bigger than the one Professor Oak was on: it even reached a whole half a mile across the sea. Excited, he took his paperwork with him, and forced his 3-year-old grandson to come along with him, seeing as he was with him at the short walk.

When they left, however, Barty noticed they left a few research papers in his hut. One of them even saying that Professor Oak's stolen the Jewels and conducted research with it. But a question still remained. . . What happened to his —?

"I've just one question, old man," breathed Uncle Wilton, whom Gold guessed was about that same while was thinking this out. Barty stared into the depths of the cold weather outside, where nothing seemed to be light anymore — the moon waned, and it was complete darkness. But Gold knew he was listening. "If he's taken his grandson with him, what happened to his granddaughter?"

There was a noise of shuffling of feet, and then Barty heaved a long, mock-frustrated sigh that made Gold's hatred over him worsen. There was another girl — she's got to be the first woman in this island . . . then came his _cousin_. Even before Barty had opened his mouth, Gold already knew the answer — just because Barty was having a really long time thinking whether or not to answer the question, Gold had enough time to think of his own: it was just so _obvious_.

Barty finally opened his mouth, Gold knew, because his shadow told him so, and there was a sort of clicking sound Gold figured was Barty clicking his tongue. Trembling, Gold awaited in bated breath for his answer — making sure he was right of his dreaded theory. Gritting his teeth, he figured that since he already knew the answer, he should at least use the time to think of a strategy to corner Barty. This may be the third time, but it should work.

"You want to know. . ." began Barty, his tone sounding raspier than ever, ". . . where she got to?"

Gold took a careful step backward and leaned sideward to give instructions to Ataro. He still had doubts of his plan, though. . .

"Irrational, you know," scraped Barty in loathing reminiscence. "Reminds me of your _cousin_."

Gold stopped muttering commands and stopped dead. He now knew he was directly speaking to him — ignoring Uncle Wilton completely — and he anticipated such careless acts like this.

"First thing she heard of her family, it was the same time Mirage Island was about to vanish, you know," said Barty viciously; he knew Gold was listening, and that it absolutely _killed_ him. "Tried to even fly up the peak of Sky Pillar. . . But she was wrong, now, wasn't she? Too late . . . what a pity."

This time, Gold forced himself to continue and Uncle Wilton gave him a nod of his head Gold knew to mean to go on. Gold forcefully had to continue commanding Ataro.

". . . So she came back here, in this hut, crying her eyes out. Then she figured out it returns every three and a half months . . . but to a different place. So she decided she'd stay here for _7 more months_ and await its return: such determination and independence for a twelve-year old girl, I must say.

"But, when that time came, the foolish girl managed to climb up to the peak — and she was gone."

"G-gone?" repeated Uncle Wilton, stunned.

Barty cleared his throat. "I actually don't know what happened to her whilst there — might've lost her virginity for all I care — but there was a report around 4 months after that incident a girl had mysteriously arrived at the peaceful city of Lilycove — quite different from the others, I'm sure. She remembers what happened to her, though she won't say anything, unlike the other girls who'd completely forgotten what happened to them after they've been zonked out."

"Y-you mean," stuttered Uncle Wilton, "She's _alive_? She would've — Gold said there were _rapists_ there —"

"Ohoho," said Barty suddenly, turning around. Uncle Wilton flinched, and Gold felt it behind him: there was a sort of shiny, blue glint in his eye as his sneer widened. "There are. That's why I'm quite fascinated of how she managed to survive the whole 3 and a half months — almost a season already."

Gold stopped talking for a fraction of a second while in the middle of telling Ataro when to initiate his command, becoming very interested of the subject: if there was the slightest chance a girl could survive in Mirage Island, then surely it would happen again. He shook his head and continued talking to Ataro.

"But. . . I have my doubts," said Barty abruptly. Uncle Wilton stirred a bit — doubts? "She could've easily lost her virginity there . . . then had hidden before they'd wipe her memory clean.

"Or, in my theories, she sought the help of Celebi," Barty rasped, and there was no mistaking that there was a maniac gleam in his eye that was of hunger for power and thirst for control. Gold resurfaced from Ataro's ear and stood up straight, thinking that at least they'd have this one shot. "It's the time-travelling pokémon that is the key to opening the bowels of time and the warped space in the dimension of Mirage Island. . . That pokémon would be your key; it is the only thing to be able to cross the distorted dimension of Mirage Island — to be able to overlap the gaps of deformed time to get there even before the second of Mirage Island's dimension collides with that of Hoenn's!"

"But why d'you want Rayquaza?" Gold asked loudly — he had to be sure Barty heard that, and that was Ataro's signal: Ataro, behind Uncle Wilton's back, had jumped backwards and landed cat-like on the floor as predicted. Barty's ugly head turned to his face, his silhouette's corners shining by the moonlight — the rain had slowly cleared, and only the pitter-patter of the roof could be heard, therefore the clouds were now giving way for the moon.

Unexpectedly, the corners of Barty's mouth could be seen through the dim moonlight — and his eyes were creepily glowing a faint, icy-blue light that matched his dark surroundings: only these seemed to be seen of Barty.

Gold felt Uncle Wilton shiver beside him, and that wasn't helping much — he's got to be the man of the two of them, so why wasn't he taking a course of action? Gold tried his best not to roll his eyes and focused on Barty's gaze: Ataro's done much more than Uncle has, he concluded.

"You still don't get it, do you," whispered Barty, his voice deadly and rough. Behind him, thunder cracked, but there didn't seem to be any rain left — which was quite odd. And the rain seemed too early to stop, considering the clouds — Gold can't help but notice that the entire temperature was oddly cooler than usual even though the rain's stopped and the clouds were still up: surely if the clouds covered the cold air without gaps, then it should be warm like a blanket over a region. . . But it was still oddly cool — if possible, it seemed chillier than earlier, even. . . "Rayquaza has this sort of ability, called _Cloud Nine _—"

"Of course," muttered Uncle Wilton, cringing suddenly after shivering all the while. Gold diverted his eyes upon him instead, giving him a puzzled expression. "With that ability, there would be an end to the heavy downpour of water, the scorching radiance of the sun, the thick sleets of the blizzard, and the entombing sands of the desert. . ."

A sudden realization whispered into Gold's mind's ear, mumbling softly, _This abrupt halt of the shower was no coincidence_. . . It echoed loudly in his mind's ear, and Gold's foot had flinched so much Ataro was almost knocked backward, which will very nearly ruin the plan. But how would the weather affect the arrival of Mirage Island?

Barty let out a high, cold wheeze that was supposed to be his laugh — throwing his head backwards with a mirthless expression that made Gold think that his cackle was only to mock them. "I could get your perplexed expressions so well — not a bad brain, boy, but you'll always be a whippersnapper to me.

"Have you ever wondered where I go to in this island? Have you ever been _curious_ why I go out every day and come back the time for dinner?" demanded Barty icily, taking a few lumpy strides forward; Uncle Wilton hesitated whether or not to take one step backward or not. Gold stood his ground: he wasn't going to let the plan fall apart. . . He had to drive his thoughts away from the plan and to think of feigning fear and interest, because Barty's eyes were gazing into his only.

"Wh — certainly not Sky Pillar?" suggested Uncle Wilton lamely, pinning himself against a wall in a panic. Gold gave him an incredulous look, not turning around but only his head so as to not reveal Ataro. Uncle Wilton gave Gold a small wink, then he understood — he was just _stalling_. . . Gold cringed: now that Uncle Wilton has given him time to let the command take flight, he's completely frozen because of vacillating, even half-forgetting what was going on already. He turned his head to the window, when Barty was already advancing toward Uncle Wilton, an idea popping. "B-but you still haven't answered the question. . . If Celebi's all you want, what about that Rayquaza?"

Gold didn't stop to listen: he advance forward carefully, slowly, and cleared his thoughts of his grand plan, Ataro right behind him — Barty's not noticed anything, because he's lost his full focus and was now concentrating on Uncle Wilton. There were creaky wood floors, so Gold had to watch where he was stepping, and it had just rained (_Damn it_.) And Ataro was still holding on his shirt so loosely he was practically swaying — Gold felt several tugs on his shirt which he knew to be the desperate attempts of Ataro on holding on.

"Oh, but I'm getting there, Wilton," wheezed Barty venomously, and his figure was starting to grow larger and larger every second he sucked air in loudly. Uncle Wilton tried to move his eyes from Barty and focused them on Gold, who was hesitantly looking behind him, which he knew to mean to stall more time. He moved his eyes back Barty's face, which was now zoomed in a _bit_ too much, and, revolted, winced. Gold just hoped that his uncle wasn't focusing his thoughts on _him_ and Ataro, because that will ruin the whole plan. . . "It's the reason why I've been staying on this island — why I've put too much effort in getting to Mirage Island to get Groudon and the Jewels — don't you get it yet? My trip to Mirage Island would be useless if I won't get that pokémon — Rayquaza is a pokémon possessing such power, such grace, such magnificence no other — not even a human — could attain!"

Barty stopped limping and had leaned forward so swiftly, Uncle Wilton didn't even had enough time to flinch nor to cringe — Gold's foot had twitched and hesitated on continuing the plan. Barty's voice echoed in Uncle Wilton's ear, the entire surroundings so still and quiet, his whisper was audible even from the place Gold was standing now.

"It's got _control_ over the two legends," he hissed in his ear, and the words still lingered Uncle Wilton's mind's ear — there was a great flash of lightning, and a roar of thunder followed not a second later — the surroundings became light, then dark again. . . Each flash followed Gold's fast heartbeat, and his breathing's sound was sunk by the loud roar of the thunder — and he took this as his only chance to get to the window in the quietest possible way. "There're thousands of legends that include Rayquaza — and one of them involves the two pokémon that created the landmass and the ocean. And I think this one is the true legend for these came from solemn old folks whose age was still bearing fruit at the time, long before it ripened."

"So you're trying to look for Rayquaza _and_ Groudon?" said Uncle Wilton, appalled — Groudon was one thing, but _Rayquaza_? He was stalling time for Gold, of course, but he also wanted to know the truth behind the legends . . . which will eventually lead to Yellow. So Barty's trying to kill two birds with one stone — he's doing one thing, then he'll wait a few more months to do the second part of his plan. . . Yet one question irked Uncle Wilton. "What does Groudon have that Kyogre doesn't?"

Gold was really appreciative that Uncle Wilton was stalling Barty for him, he thought as he quietly helped Ataro climb up the open window, but he just wished he wasn't asking anything that will distract him from the plan.

Barty didn't waste any time to corner Uncle Wilton up against the wall with his crane — Gold stopped adjusting Ataro, his blood clotted. The pain in his ankle was worsening when he realized that Uncle Wilton was being cornered by Barty up against a wall — he stared at Uncle Wilton for a while, his eyes huge: Uncle Wilton focused his almost-squinted eyes upon him, his teeth gritted. Uncle Wilton's collar was being held by Barty's crane, and he was pushed up against the wall — how did Barty get enough strength for that? Uncle Wilton's only open eye lingered on Gold for a while before he moved it to face Barty.

Gold had the sudden urge to beat the living crap out of Barty while he was still distracted — he could hear Uncle Wilton's slow breathing and his grunts in mid-air: he was a few inches off the ground, yet Gold couldn't understand how Barty managed to lift him off his feet with just using his crane — his arm raised above his head, Barty held the crane carrying Uncle Wilton's collar like a sword about to slit one's throat up high. Gold watched, horrified, as Uncle Wilton made desperate movements to get on the ground once more; he had almost forgotten the plan. . .

"Groudon has the power to create the landmass — doesn't that astound you? Controlling that pokémon alone could help one to dominate the entire planet! Aren't you simply amazed to hear such? Aren't you marvelling over its power? Don't you _wish_ to have its strength?" demanded Barty, his hand practically shaking — but obviously not with Uncle Wilton's dead weight: Uncle Wilton was literally gasping for air, and Gold saw his right hand groping behind his belt for his pokéballs. "Groudon is the pokémon that makes the continents — it's got the freedom to rule over all us, unlike anyone else — not even any human else! Don't you want that? Don't you? Can't you see any other pokémon that could give you such — _I don't think so!_"

Barty immediately figured out what Uncle Wilton was trying to do and he literally _kicked_ his pokéballs off his hands and they landed on the ground — Gold held his breath, knowing Barty would soon remember he was there, but he couldn't take it anymore: but then again, if they go on with the plan then maybe Barty won't tell them answers. . . He had to grudgingly wait. Ataro fidgeted uncomfortably beside him.

Uncle Wilton let out a groan, and he forcefully had to open his one eye to know what was happening. He gave up trying to reach out for his remaining pokéballs at the other side of his belt and grunted, glaring at Barty despicably — his breathing was now a bit faster than usual, and there was an expression of him that told Gold that he was clearly loathing Barty now: he even dared to look at him straight in the eye, as if challenging him of his mind-reading powers. . .

"Rayquaza is stationed at the Sky Pillar — it's abandoned its usual post in the atmosphere," breathed Uncle Wilton heavily through gritted teeth; he pathetically looked like he wanted to give out a cough, but couldn't. "You know why?"

Barty's face contorted with slow understanding that was both horrifying — and at the same time _hideous_. Gold stopped suddenly, seeing as Barty had unexpectedly gone rigid — and even his crane was shaking along with him. This was obviously a question he didn't anticipate Uncle Wilton would ask. . . Gold nearly swore to himself, his heart missing a beat that time, he saw Barty almost let go of his crane, but hesitated, much to his relief.

"Rayquaza doesn't seem to be the type of pokémon to easily go on a vacation," Uncle Wilton went on, seizing the opportunity to continue — Gold took this as Uncle Wilton's signal to carry on what he's doing. Appreciation overwhelming Gold's body flushed with a slight rush of affection, he gave him a nod, though he knew he wasn't looking, and turned back to Ataro. "You know this. Maybe it's sensed something wrong happening? I could tell — fish pokémon migrate when they anticipate something horrible about to happen. . . Or, in a pokémon like Rayquaza's case, go to the bottom of the case and investigate — mostly of the root of the cause of the predicted phenomenon that involves the pokémon that foreseen it itself . . . that only means it's meant to be responsible for the said expected disaster (or the like.)"

Barty's entire being had come to a halt — even his breath wasn't very apparent in hearing: for a fraction of a second, Gold thought that he was having a heart attack, having not moved for a really long time — Gold stopped what he was doing and decided to take this moment to stare at Barty. Ataro was being typically panicky, and he was holding Gold's arm just to control himself. Gold gulped, feeling his entire body tremble; without Barty, they won't be able to get the answer they —

But Barty finally made a slight movement, making Gold literally cringe, clenching and unclenching his bony fists, and he looked ready to collapse on the floor. Thunder once again bellowed outside, but there was no sign of any strong wind: not even a breeze.

"You . . . you've figured that out as if — as if —"

"I'm a professional fisherman," said Uncle Wilton loudly — meanwhile, Gold had finished doing what he was doing and boldly turned his heels, his palms against the sill of the large, open wooden window. "And I've lived in the seas longer than anyone — that makes me observe the way the water pokémon behave in the ocean — along with the ones that just fly above."

"What's your true motive, Barty?" Gold ejaculated loudly, his voice echoing in the whole hut when Barty opened his mouth. Above his quivering body, his crane was shaking more badly than he was — and he finally put Uncle Wilton down when he dropped his crane, still clenching and unclenching his fists: there was a chill that ran down his spine — Barty's nails were about 14 inches longer now. . .

The tip of his tongue licked his lips obscenely — it was honestly very terrifying to watch because Gold literally wanted to scream. Clicking his tongue afterwards, he took one step closer, his eyes turning a very dangerous shade of icy blue.

"Motive? My motive?" he whispered, then another language, quite foreign to both Uncle Wilton and Gold, had suddenly escaped from Barty's mouth that made Gold's entire body tremble in dread, but he dared not step back. Barty's eyes never left Gold's all the while he spoke in the same, sharp tone he used in his language, hissing venomously. If anything, he looked more dangerous; like a snake using its instincts.

"Wha — what's that?" yelped Uncle Wilton, on the floor, and massaging his painful neck. But, as always, Barty ignored him.

"Haven't I already told you," Barty said finally in English after the sudden outbreak of growls and hisses, not moving from the spot an inch — and that's what troubled Gold. Why wasn't he moving? "But I guess your mind is a bit preoccupied at the moment, boy. . . Kyogre and Groudon — both legendary pokémon, both strong and powerful — have their own Achilles' heels.

"The _Jewels_. They're the only things that could stop and control them as much as a trainer to an ordinary pokémon! And, apparently, if one of them awakes . . . the other would, as well. . ."

"So does that mean you plan to wake Groudon and take down _Kyogre_ yourself?" exclaimed Gold, putting his plan to a halt. Barty's eyes once again turned to slits and he stamped his foot on the floor — there was a shockwave that shook the entire hut, and even Ataro, who was behind Gold's back and holding up the pokéball with his tail, had to bite Gold's hood to not move: the books on the shelf were literally falling to the ground, and the hut made of wood was actually swaying. "You're using Rayquaza, Barty — that's just wrong. And what exactly do you plan when you finally got the Jewels and awaken them?"

Barty's expression, if possible, contorted once more and his wrinkles were now building up forming a few creases of his face: and Gold has never seen him angrier before. Uncle Wilton made to get up, grunting, but Barty, much to the both of their shock and astonishment, literally blew backward his crane, which he picked up so fast, even Gold didn't detect it, making Uncle Wilton paralyzed — and unless he wanted to make a movement, he might as well give himself up to the tip of the crane now pointing half-an-inch from his neck right now: and there was once more an eruption of hissing and low growls.

"_Can't you understand? Will _none_ of you understand? I've already been trying to tell ALL of you — you just weren't _listening," Barty rasped — he shot Gold a cold glare and went on, but there were still the unmistakable sounds of hissing and snarling following that becomes obvious whenever Barty has paused in a sentence because it echoes. "_Some idiot — the one Oak had most likely entrusted one of the Jewels to — had let Kyogre awaken!"_

"_What_?" Gold said, his eyes wide — Ataro fidgeted uncomfortably in fear behind him. "Then where is it now? Where's it headed? TELL ME!"

"Quiet, boy!" shrieked Barty, the hissing and growling noises echoing much more loudly than earlier. "It's now headed wherever Groudon is — and that's why I could kill two birds with one stone if I get to Mirage Island fast enough — three, if you'll let me go after Rayquaza. . ."

"So you're saying that my cousin is at stake here?" roared Gold, hot bubbles popping inside his stomach, rage coursing through his body — that old little git. Why would he help him if that'll only lead to killing Yellow? Fat chance. There was a sound of knives sharpening each other — Gold froze: he knew that sound wasn't exactly knives. . . But he had to keep going, because Uncle Wilton seemed too uneasy to even do anything. "Why should I help _you_ if Yellow will only get killed? There is no chance of _me_ helping you. . ."

"Oh," whispered Barty loudly, his voice hoarse, but he was shivering not with fright, but with what Gold expected to be out of pure madness. Barty's crane was already shaking as well, and Uncle Wilton was careful to avoid its tip to reach his neck, and that's just what Gold feared. "But why would I want your help? You see, I already figured out what your thoughts —" — Gold's heart missed a beat that fraction of a second — "— are of helping me. So this is just _me_ trying to get rid of _you_. . ."

And now the sounds of the nails sharpening each other all made sense. . . Gold's entire physique and confidence had all been sucked out, and the chances of them winning against a monster were slim . . . but that slim chance might enlarge if only. . . Gold's eyes landed on the manuscript for a fraction of a second, then they immediately darted back to face Barty, clearing his mind of all his renewed plans. . . This might be crazy, but it'll work — and, if they're lucky, will work out well with his first plan.

"Say good-bye, _Gold_," Barty rasped evilly, and, raising his hands slowly from the sleeves of his toga, he sneered with a light as bright as the moon itself, but shadows dark as the intentions of his heart. Gold got ready, his lips curling into a frown, and, after he heard his uncle shout, "GET AWAY FROM HIM, YOU SCUM — YOU B******," Barty lunged forward, waving his nails like the madman he is, Gold gathered all his courage and remaining hope to duck —

Ataro, who was just behind Gold the whole while, had been carrying a pokéball, and had leapt from the sill of the wooden window as Gold went for the plank safely — Ataro released the pokéball and the button had clicked — Barty's eyes grew large, and fear was apparent in his face — Uncle Wilton watched, gaping wide and gasping silently, apparently not anticipating Gold would ever do such action — the pokéball's button automatically keyed the ball open — a red beam had escaped from it —

The light engulfed the entire room — Gold didn't hesitate on using this chance and silently stood up to do something, and quickly — Barty gave an audible gasp — the red beam formed into a great big shape—the wings had managed to form perfectly, and the tail whipped, making an incredibly loud noise — its antennae were stout, but even in length — everything happened so fast, it seemed like it all happened in one blink of an eye — the red beam finally formed a body of a large ray, and the light literally shattered — it was Mantaro. . .

Astonished and startled, Barty shielded his eyes and was tackled backward with Mantaro's amazing strength (Mantaro hasn't even done anything yet.)

When Gold finally managed to regain his strength, also realizing Barty was distracted in the bundle of dirt, he shouted at Uncle Wilton, who was still gawking, climbing on to Mantaro as well, "Well, come on, then!"

Nodding repeatedly, but still looking unsure of himself, Uncle Wilton climbed clumsily on Mantaro's back, grunting — Gold rolled his eyes and gave Mantaro a slight kick in the ribs — Mantaro changed direction, giving a slight growl, and went for the large, wooden window — Gold braced himself, through his gritted teeth (he guessed Uncle Wilton was the one shouting, "NOT THAT WAY! NOT THAT WAY!") and swiped Ataro from the sill and holding him tightly in his arms just in time before Mantaro broke out of the hut, creating an even bigger window.

"_YAAAAAAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_" Gold yelled loudly, his voice echoing in the island — Uncle Wilton's screams were much more audible, though.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHH!"

"Oh, Uncle," said Gold, rolling his eyes — he focused his eyes on the sea, which reflected the moonlight. Ataro heaved a sigh in his arms; Gold lazily patted his head as he, too, patted Mantaro on the back.

"We've just escaped," wheezed Uncle Wilton, his eyes still large, and was, apparently, squeezing his arms tightly around Mantaro's back. He was gazing down the island, not daring to believe what just happened at the quickest possible time. The moon was now being covered by the clouds, he observed, because the trees of the forest were now looking more shadowed than a few minutes ago. . .

But a light had suddenly flashed somewhere below them — it nearly blinded Uncle Wilton, yet its flash was of the colour of viridian-green. . . He furrowed his eyebrows and frowned slightly.

"Gold?" he bellowed, still not driving his eyes away, the wind whipping his hair so that it scattered across his forehead. "I think we better land down here — I think I saw a bright flash of light."

"Are you mental?" Gold shouted back, and Mantaro and Ataro had haughty snarls of agreement. "We're NOT going down until we're sure Barty's still not recovered."

Enraged because Gold wasn't catching his drift, Uncle Wilton opened his mouth to bellow back, but there was a loud, piercing dragon-like roar that reverberated in the island — it was Rayquaza. Gold and Uncle Wilton exchanged surprised and fearful looks.

"Okay, we're getting down."


	26. Visit

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Thanks for reading the last chapter! XD I'm just in the mood today because I got REALLY excited over our Christmas party! My codename was Meridian Diamond! Nobody'll expect it'd be me! **_

**GOLD: **_**How come YOU get the cool nicknames? Okay, okay, so I've nicknamed a fair few Pokedex owners, but I mean, come on — nobody nicknames ME.**_

**YELLOW: **_**Haven't you used to call me, Straw Hat Gal? =/**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**Moonlit Obsidian Frost Zanpakto 19: That's Barty for you — actually; he's pretty much the evillest character here (LOL) And of course Yellow shouldn't die in here — I'll make sure she won't (a few injuries, but she won't die.) Oh? You like Cassava cake? I've got more if you want some? **_

_**Split Heart 1120: Glad you think so ^-^ Like I said, Barty's the evillest character here. And he just cares for himself . . . or does he? Muwahahahahaha! Have a chocolate ice cream! XD**_

_**XXX: Good Lord — CAN YOU READ MINDS OR SOMETHING? IT'S LIKE YOU COULD FIGURE THIS ALL OUT! Well, I may have explained Bill's character too much . . . hehehehe. But, seriously, you are a GENIOUS! YOU PRACTICALLY SOLVED WHAT I HAD A PLAN ON! Two minds think alike, huh? I'VE FOUND MY SIBLING (HUGS YOU SO TIGHT, YOU WINCE) And at least you actually SHARE, my siblings and I literally fight for a cup of ice cream — and thanks for the food! I was getting quite hungry, too! ^o^**_

**GOLD: **_**You did all that in such a hurry, didn't you?**_

**ME: **_**I did XD And this chapter's got a lame ending, and I'm REALLY LOOKING FOR SOME IDEAS FROM THE REVIEWERS!**_

**YELLOW: **_**I'm really sorry for you ={ **_

**ME:**_** You shouldn't be sorry for me just because of that. You should be sorry because my female friends don't talk to me anymore ToT (SULKS IN A CORNER FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HER LIFE)**_

**GOLD: **_**I'm — I'm sorry? What d'you mean, FEMALE FRIENDS? I still don't think you have them anymore.**_

**ME: **_**(WAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIL)**_

**YELLOW: **_**Gold-chaaan! Can't you see she's crying? =(**_

**GOLD: **_**What? It's not like they're the only friends she's got, is it?**_

**24****th**** CHAPTER: VISIT**

**LOG TWELVE**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY: MIRAGE ISLAND — FAST**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY: SKY PILLAR ISLAND — 4:16 AM**

"**T**hat's not a good thing, right?" said Yellow nervously, all her anger of Red ebbing away as he slid his leg off hers. Green, scowling still, but not from thinking that Yellow's question was irate, but from what Yellow understood was the title on the cover of the newspaper he threw on the bed — _The Legends Awakening_. But Yellow still had her eyes on him; he rubbed the creases on his forehead, heaving a loud sigh with his other free hand on his hip — she's honestly never seen him so troubled before, so this must be a really bad thing.

Red, meanwhile, had picked the newspaper up — it was called, the _Dimension Seer_ — and furrowed his eyebrows questioningly — he must have read something there which was so interesting that caught his attention, because he raised the paper to eye level and unfolded it in such a hurry, his face was suddenly so close to the inked words.

"'_On the 8__th__ day of this month,'_" Red read aloud, his eyes moving from one word to another so fast, it seemed like it was already rolling out of focus left and right — Yellow turned to look at him and listened carefully, furrowing her eyebrows and chose that Green just wanted to have a minute alone while they read. "_'The Mirage Island town mayor, Samuel Oak, aged 58, who has been well-known to be conducting research on the island for almost 15 years, has late last night discovered the number rates of the weather were off the charts — and this was no coincidence.'_"

"That must mean Kyogre's travelling!" exclaimed Yellow suddenly — the wrong weather at the wrong time . . . Red and Green acting out of the ordinary last night . . . the sudden change of the weather — the rain had suddenly poured. . . They were right to have reacted than usual — it was out of _stimulus_, and the stimulus, apparently, was literally _moving _— but one questioned irked Yellow's vein: how could Kyogre have awakened when Red and Green had the Jewels all along? And that just meant . . . "And Rayquaza! You've sensed it too, haven't you? It's supposed to live in the thickest layer of the atmosphere! Why's it abandoned its post?"

"That's just it, isn't it?"

Yellow turned her head to Green, who was now sitting down her bed, sighing heavily in frustration — he didn't look as calm as he did, but was as aggressive and somehow agitated as he'd been last night: something's definitely wrong. He kicked the thing nearest him — a woven basket just sitting on the floor that was hit flying in the air six feet off the ground — and stamped his foot hard on the floor. Red, behind Yellow, who sensed his movement in front of her, didn't ignore Green either, and he was deceptively serious about this too; he looked effortlessly at him, turning his neck, and clenched and unclenched his free fist.

"Calm down, Green," Red said — but it wasn't as soothing as Yellow expected: on the contrary, it was cold, dark and patient. Feeling slightly lost, Yellow bit her tongue from saying anything to intrude and placed her hands on her lap to distract her eyes from anywhere else. There was a sudden sound of paper being flipped — Yellow just had to guess that Red lost his trail of thought and had to do something to find his tracks — and she distractedly avoided anyone's eye: focusing on her twiddling fingers sitting on her lap, she gulped uneasily. Red cleared his throat and went on, "_'This was no coincidence. His invention, the radar, was able to detect the movements of any kind of pokémon associated with the weather or the climate of Hoenn — and just last night, he's found a small figure in the form of a dot moving its way toward the sea of Pacifidlog — just an hour after that, there was another small dot that suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and it seemed to be making its way, too, toward the small island off the coast of Pacifidlog —' _I knew it."

Red sighed angrily and threw the paper across Yellow's lap — she winced slightly (more out of dread than surprise, because that's the only place where she didn't become uneasy to land her eyes on) — and it showed a black-and-white picture of a radar machine and what seemed to be two dots glowing not far from a small, mapped place titled, 'Route 219.' What's that got to do with Mirage Island, Yellow thought, holding the paper grudgingly up to eye-level, with her free hand tugging the collar of her pyjamas uncomfortably. At the corner of her eye, she saw Red eye her carefully out of the corner of _his_ eye and she fidgeted awkwardly and understood that Red wanted _her_ to continue the caption.

Not knowing where this will lead her, she nervously read the paper, thinking that she'll eventually find out soon enough, "_Professor Oak had announced early this morning at the Refectory that Rayquaza and Kyogre are both making their way toward Mirage Island —'_"

"See?" said Red, enraged. Yellow lifted her head from the paper, trembling slightly — this meant that even in Mirage Island she was in trouble. . . And a realization crept up Yellow's spine and she feared the worst to happen: Rayquaza was making its way toward the small island off the coast of Pacifidlog? Only two things flashed inside her mind when she dreaded the thought: Gold and Uncle Wilton. "I knew it. They're making their way here: and they're now planning to position on the island where it all happened."

"What's going to happen to my cousin and uncle?" yelled Yellow both in panicky anger and stressed discouragement — she glanced at either Green or Red, in the hope that they may have an idea. Green just buried his face into his hands, moaning — Red, however, gave a loud, frustrated noise and ran his fingers through his hair impatiently and stamped on the ground.

"I don't know at all anymore!" he shouted to himself. "But one thing's for sure, Groudon's _not_ running late, and he still hasn't been awakened!

"What d'you reckon has happened, Green?" he said, cooling down. Yellow turned to look at Green; he was now patiently sitting on her bed, scrunching his forehead, and had his elbows placed on each of his legs, thinking deeply — this was one of those times Yellow had only seen someone so calm in such a life-threatening situation. . . Then again, he seemed to always be controlled and cool: but how does he maintain such a steady trail of thought and self-control?

He clicked his tongue, gave an audible sigh, and swung his head forward a bit — then he paused. "I think . . . that, since we've obviously haven't awakened Kyogre — with the result of stimulating Rayquaza to end another battle — then there must be someone else who had — someone who's touched the Jewels before."

Red gave a sudden splutter of frustration — however, Yellow thought this to be impossible — no one who's touched the Jewels before can still be alive; if what Green said was proven to be true, then maybe there was someone out there, someone unbelievably wicked and cruel, who wanted to have the same kind of power, the same kind of control. Another piece of memory had exploded in front of her mind's eye: _'There's someone out there who wants to get their hands on the Jewels. . .'_

"Ahh!" yelled Yellow with a start — she cuffed her mouth with both her hands and felt her eyes widen. Red and Green looked at her, their eyes bulged. "Green — you'd mentioned that someone wants to get the Jewels — force them outside you — hadn't you? What if that someone had _already_ _touched_ it and is now trying to get it again? B-but then, he figured out that he's still had some of the powers — the side-effects — and used it to awaken Kyogre?"

Green's eyes lingered on her panicking figure for a full thirty seconds — long enough to make Yellow regret what she'd just said: maybe he'd just think she'd gone the wrong road, and she's far-out. She remained in her same, excited pose she'd positioned herself automatically that now turned to be awkward. Silence fell upon the three of them, and the only noise that was heard had been the air conditioner functioning loudly. Red, on the other hand, she saw at the corner of her eye, had stopped fidgeting and, for all she knew, moving.

"That. . ." said Green slowly, speaking for the first time after a long silence — Yellow's heart missed a beat; she didn't expect him to literally make out a comment of her sudden interjection, "can be possible. But nobody who's touched the Blue Jewel is still alive today. . ."

"Lemme read the paper," Red said abruptly, standing from his sitting position and seizing the paper from Yellow's loose grip — Yellow, who'd been in such a trance from surprise that Green actually liked her stupid idea that she didn't move a bit, didn't mind at all, but just silently celebrated her genius.

"'_We, however, are forced not to accuse the current possessors of the Jewels, the Opted, Mister Red Crimson, and his own grandson, Green Oak,'_" Red angrily read aloud, trembling as he did, but with furiousness: Yellow could see the paper's pictures optically moving. "_'Even if all the evidences point to them — both the boys have been late that night, because the Senior Pupils patrolled all over, and found that they were not in their designated Dormitories. Oak's roommate, Daniel, 18, had reported his roommate was nowhere to be seen —' _I knew Daniel can't be trusted."

"Enough about my stupid roommate," said Green impatiently from the corner. "Just keep reading."

Red, who'd been neglected obviously and wanted to patch this up, had continued reading aloud as Green told him, "_'Crimson's roommate, the boy mistaken to be a girl, hereby termed Erroneous, had, too, been away that time: so the arrow ends up pointing between suspects. Who is it? Is this the end of Mirage Island forever?'_ That's all there is."

"How come I'm _Erroneous_ —" Yellow began indignantly, pointing at her own neck, but Green cut in between her sentence and pressed on more important matters.

"I don't believe it as well," said Green, creasing his forehead. "We've sensed unpredicted catastrophes concerning Groudon, Kyogre and Rayquaza, and then I stumbled across Celebi. . . It didn't make an appearance in front of me for nothing, you know — it was uncovered, and it seemed like it'd planned a trip somewhere out of Mirage Island before it's seen me and attacked."

"So it could have easily slipped out of the time in Mirage Island and through the boundaries of its interim," said Red, catching his drift as easy — Yellow blinked: this was a lot to understand. . . Green gave him a curt nod quietly. He got up, serious, clenching and unclenching his fists. "So that must mean it's seen what's about to happen in the future — it's sensed a catastrophe happening, and it's got to get out of this time just to stop it itself. But all we've guessed about Celebi helping us to get back to Hoenn — it's got no power to help us get out because, frankly, time-travelling is dangerous — especially if we're out of space. According to some researchers, time-travelling is finding a wormhole in space, and if both those elements are needed, then Celebi isn't powerful enough to carry a passenger with it to travel.

"But we're not even sure what the weather is outside here," Red went on scientifically; he was thinking so fast Yellow wasn't able to process anything after "wormhole." "The weather and climate of Hoenn is essential if you want to cross time and pass the volatile space outside Mirage Island."

"So that's what's beyond the waters around Mirage Island?" Yellow cried loudly, a spark of retention igniting a light of her mind's imaginary candle: she could recall it right now . . . there was fog surrounding everything beyond half a mile of Mirage Island's waters. . . "That's volatile space? So the other half of the sea had transformed to fog because of the random space? That's what it means?"

"Not a bad brain," Green said slowly, with a slight tone of amusement — Yellow could see the shadow of his slight smirk at the corner of his mouth. Then he frowned. "But we were wrong, weren't we, about the fact that Celebi could help us. . . If only that pokémon could have the power to —"

"You lot just want to use Celebi like the idiots here have done?" Yellow cried in a high-pitched voice — not knowing where this sudden indignance had come from, she let it take control of her all the same. Red furrowed his eyebrows so that both of their tips were now between his eyes. "You could've just waited! _Waited_! You had your chance every 3-and-a-half months! You could have just escaped! Or, at least, you could have just _done_ something about this 'Mirage Island's Literacy Rate' before you'll get your chance to escape! You could have at least done something to save those girls!"

Green made to get up, but Red just swung his arm in front of him, snarling and flushed — and Yellow could see his eyes glow dangerously scarlet again.

"We tried! Bill's already done his part saving _you_!" bellowed Red, taking a reckless step forward, red-faced. Yellow stood her ground, nearly defeated but defiance still glowing inside her, glaring up at him. "If we hadn't told him to do exactly that, you would've been —"

"Then why haven't you freed Celebi yet?" Yellow pressed on, sympathy burning inside her — her eyes was now starting to feel wet, and her mouth was so dry her voice was barely smooth. "You know what? You're so selfish. You'll not only just leave everyone here in Mirage Island after you escape, but Celebi as well. That's really egoistic. And you lot are supposed to be the Possessors —"

"Opted," mumbled Green under his breath, but Yellow continued like she didn't see or hear anything.

"— who'll guard the Jewels no matter how it takes. What, you think that when you'll get out of this hellhole, everything here's gonna be sweet and dandy?"

Red's breathing was now audible, and he wasn't looking at her in anger but in reluctant defeat — the look of aggression instantly faded from Red's face when he came to think about what she said. Though Yellow still felt slightly unsatisfied with this victory, and there was a part of her that was writhing in pain, and had now pulled her stomach with it — she didn't know where, but it seemed to be low and deep, because it was killing her.

"I'm sorry," she panted, looking at her own hands. "I didn't mean — I don't know what — I'm really sorry —"

"What's done is done," Green said dismissively, standing up. Yellow made to apologize once more; sheepishness overwhelming her, even, but Red just forced a reassuring smile and murmured, "I know. . ."

"But —" began Yellow again, her eyes literally now watering with tears — and through her shiny vision, she saw Green wave his hand indifferently, walking over to the both of them as Red just sank down the bed slowly; it was randomly then Yellow realized that Red could both look reassuring and defeated at the same time unlike any other person.

"You two've been fighting here and there," he said impatiently, already passing Yellow as she bit her lower lip, still standing. She then decided she'd prolonged her position and sat down her own bed, staring fixedly at the floor: what had happened to her? "But I think it's time for us to make a little visit."

Green skimmed the sliding door open, and there was a sudden breeze of fresh air that swept inside — a sudden warm temperature covered the entire dorm, and Yellow could feel her resentment ebbing away slightly, relaxing. . . But that still didn't change the way she thought of herself. She'd just exploded suddenly . . . she's never felt so indignant before, and that must have been one of those rages she's had ever since. . . Come to think of it, she only ever felt like that since she's arrived on Mirage Island. . .

". . . A visit to our old friend Bill."

"What?" said Yellow stupidly — Green had already slipped himself outside flexibly and had ignored this statement, apparently, because he had already seen one face of Yellow in a fight, and the only one who could endure it would be Red — but that will make things a bit awkward since he just left them at the same room. . .

She didn't dare glance behind her — for obvious reasons — and determinedly not looking at anything but the door which Green had just slid outside with — and slid it open, hurrying so that Red would obviously lag behind, poking her head out of the door: her nippiness from the coolness of the air conditioner had suddenly risen temperature from the exposure to sunlight.

Actually, the air outside kind of let her anger ebb away — it was nice to have a pleasant change of scenery. . . The warm breeze blew against her loose hair and she caught the sudden scent of barbecue. . . For a moment, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation, remembering the feeling of being in the Viridian Forest. . . Now, she was calm, placid and relaxed — she heard the tweeting of the bird pokémon perched on the nearby trees that were just at the corner of the pulverized path that lead to the right side of the over-sized school. . .

It was a sweet, mellow sensation that made her recall all the memories she's had in the forest. . .

Almost as if she's forgotten all her worries, and that Green's running away from the dorm didn't happen — her body seemed to be floating away, and that this was all too good to be true. Another strong gust of warm wind blustered against her and her hair was being whipped around in the wind, and the cool feeling returned, but this was the natural, lovely feeling. . .

"Dammit, Yellow!"

She felt strong fingers wrap themselves around her wrist, even squeezing a few strands of hair along with the grip, and she was jolted awake from her reminiscence, her eyes opened — slightly gasping, she was lead back inside the dorm, everything imploding back in her mind's eye. Red's voice still echoed inside her head, and everything was still a dark blur, surrounding the circumference of her eyes like a black fog as her vision slightly returned back to normal — she was still feeling oddly dizzy, and Red helped her get on the bed, panting.

"Why'd you stand there for a long time?" he said hoarsely, trembling in front of her — she squinted her eyes: she mostly couldn't make out _anything_, thanks to her blurry vision, and all she could see was a huge red blob in front of her that was shaking slowly back into focus. Maybe it was Red? She chose not to say anything yet since, knowing Red, he was going to continue whether you answer or not. "You _know_ you're not supposed to — to — to let your _hair_ be seen!"

"Wha — oh."

Everything that had happened in Mirage Island momentarily didn't cross her mind that time, and all this flashed back inside her head, and stupidity flushed across her face, making her blush — she'd forgotten, hadn't she, that her best friends were being held prisoners here, and that she was supposed to be going back to Gold and Uncle Wilton; they weren't with her after all. But a question still remained: how did she let herself to be caught like that?

Suddenly, the dark cloud that surrounded the circumference of her eyeball had faded away, and every detail in front of her was sharpening until her vision was back — but Yellow wished it didn't at this second when she saw Red looking at her straight in the eye suspiciously: she winced.

"What's gotten into you?" he demanded, but in an odd tone of both concern and guilt. He glanced at the sliding door — Yellow followed his gaze — and found Green's shoes outside, along with the rest of his body, and his expression completely changed. He looked back at Yellow. Now, Yellow was sure he was solemn — she saw his natural kind face back and a feeling of hotness overcame her that exploded from the pit of her stomach. "Look, we'll go to Bill's, you know, and straighten this out. We'll find out what's wrong with everything — let's just pretend all this didn't happen, all right?"

Still feeling as though something bad has happened to her, she reluctantly tried to force herself to believe him, because every nerve in her body was telling her that she needed to figure something out before something bad'll happen again. And soon. Yellow grudgingly nodded her response, looking deep into Red's crimson eyes — Bill would probably be lazing about in his study, like last time before Elm interrupted, but Yellow couldn't help but wonder whether he was really attending any of the classes as a teacher.

Chuckling to himself, Red took off his hat — Yellow was startled; he rarely even had to take off his hat — and leaned forward — she gasped quietly, thinking that this might be _it _— _not_ the censored it — and whispered "Close your eyes" to her, smiling — excitement overwhelming her, she completely forgot about Green and everything, and immediately closed her eyes. Then she felt his hands around her . . . around her _head_?

Yellow immediately opened her eyes — where the hell was _it_? What she saw let her expectations fall and her mind was swirling: he adjusted his hat to fit her head, putting her hair in, every strand, and he went back to squatting, beaming as he did.

"Well?" he said happily. "Do you like it?"

_A kiss would be better._

"Thanks!" said Yellow in a false happy tone that seemed to convince him — she didn't want to hurt his feelings and all, but really, a _hat_? "It's . . . great."

"You're the only person whom I shall give my hat to," murmured Red, running his fingers through his hair. Yellow blushed.

"We should probably hurry," she said hastily, seeing as Green was starting to lose his patience outside — and, also, the fact that her heart was starting to beat a million times harder than usual. Red's skull may be as solid as diamond and as thick as the Earth itself, but he's pretty much the nicest person in the world, she's concluded. She pointed outside, and Red sighed heavily, standing up.

The both of them went for the sliding door silently, and Yellow wisely didn't utter a single word when Green made the explosion outside, Red's heart-melting smile still apparently present in her mind, and this was one image she wasn't going to let go of easily. She was first to walk down the small balcony's 3-stepped stairs, which, too, was made of wood.

But her thoughts didn't completely block their conversation off her ears, unfortunately.

"What the hell did you give her?" she heard Green bellow not a few feet away behind her.

"My hat," said Red indifferently — Yellow was absolutely sure he wanted to block off any kind of argument as well, and he was doing it in the smartest way he could think of. But as much as Yellow appreciated the bloke, she just wanted him to have given her a more appropriate attire rather his hat, she thought as she strode hurriedly.

"Could you have given her a more convincing disguise?" Green hissed — the both of them were catching up already, and she had been ahead them 5 feet away just a few seconds ago, and they aren't even running. But Green had just said what Yellow had been thinking: it _had_ been pretty embarrassing to get out of the dorm without _anything_ else to wear than her pyjamas. She blushed at the thought.

"We're just going to visit Bill," Red pressed on facetiously — they were now walking beside her, and now Yellow could see he _was_ striding. But when they were right beside her, he's slowed down his pace, and she could now see the redness of his face: indeed, Green had pushed him into a corner. "And besides, boys could wear pink, couldn't they —"

"But seriously, _Pikachu_ _patterns_ —"

"Well, _I_ think it's cute."

Yellow stopped her tracks — her heart had missed another beat, and she held her breath — she was standing beside Red and Green, who'd both halted at the same time, her left foot nervously still. Honestly, if the stranger behind them were only trustworthy, she would have been grateful of the comment — but obviously, this was not the time to be appreciative.

She felt Red's left hand suddenly twitching on her shoulder, and she gave a quiet yelp when Green squeezed her left hand with his right.

They didn't turn around and didn't move a muscle — all of them were so engrossed in keeping still, they'd forgotten, in Yellow's lame opinion, they were already seen.

It was only then that Red had slid his hand from her shoulder — there was an odd feeling of emptiness inside Yellow which was mixed with nervous excitement — Red gave a soft gasp beside her that made her heart miss a beat.

"Bloody hell — _Bill_!"

"_Who_?"

Yellow, who'd never have believed the luck they'd had, and Green, who already let go of Yellow's hand — blushingly, which was unnoticed by Yellow — wheeled around and came to face a not-so-tall, well-dressed, familiar bloke with a smile not unlike Red's, and his auburn hair was shining in the sunlight. He seemed to be happy this time, but Yellow couldn't understand why after their last meeting.

"So what brings you students cutting classes?" said Bill mockingly, raising an eyebrow — Red just gave a loud laugh, and even Green forced a small smile: yet Yellow had completely forgotten the reason they were out of school today. She looked up and down the laughing figure of Red, which was as if in slow motion, and turned to look at the emotionless figure of Green, which Yellow wasn't sure if it was in slow motion or not; their scars were still open, and though she's already done her best to cure them, there was still an air that told her they were just making themselves look healthy under duress.

"We've come to see you," said Green, a shadow of his smile seen — but the rest of his face was serious. "There's something you should know."

"About what?" Bill said, still beaming, then he caught the seriousness in Green's expression, and his smile faded. "I overheard what happened last night at breakfast."

"You did, huh?" said Red, whose smile, too, had faded instantly — Yellow, feeling awkward, remained silent. She stared fixedly at her feet, conscious that Bill was looking at her: it must have been the pink pyjamas or something. She just wished she didn't pick to wear them _today_, and Red would have just given her some kind of jacket . . . or something. "They knew we were out late?"

"Nope," said Bill — Yellow felt his eyes leaving her, but she still wasn't looking away. He looked at Red, blinking once, with his expression half-glad and half-sheepish. "I covered for you guys. I told them you were doing some field work for me."

"Excuse me, but can't we discuss all this inside your office?" Green interjected — _Thank God_. Yellow nodded at this very vigorously, and felt Red's hat slipping. As much as she was grateful Bill covered for them, she, too, was having mixed feelings — what the hell were they doing discussing this _outside_? Surely they were much safer inside, right? And there were big windows not a few feet away where they stood — _really _big windows. Though Yellow noticed that they were curtained; this was odd, since it was still morning.

"Ah, yes, but there are still people doing their business at the Hall," said Bill — does he know everything? He really was smart, but there was something about his knowledge that bugged Yellow a bit, and she can't quite put her finger to it. She fixed her eyes on the windows distractedly, and at the corner of her right eye, she saw Bill raise his eyebrows.

Yellow immediately stood straight.

"Okay," Bill said loudly — there was a different tone of his voice, Yellow noticed, and he was now shuffling his hands, looking anywhere but at her. Did he just remember she was still there? "Maybe we should get to the office."

"You think?" said Red under his breath, yet Bill was looking at anywhere but Yellow — much to Red — who knew he was, but didn't know why — and Green's annoyance.

* * *

><p>"So what did you want to tell me about?" asked Bill, as he gestured the three of them to sit down his grey bed — Yellow was once again in the room of Bill, and found herself feeling home. This must have been the neatest of the entire campus — hell, it might've been the neatest in the <em>island<em>, and Yellow had noticed it just now. Everything seemed the same since she'd last been inside it, but without her pokéballs on the glass table.

The black ceiling fan — Yellow saw, craning her neck to make a good view — might have been already there, and she didn't notice before. Red sat next to her, his legs separate from each other and his torso lying backward — surprisingly, she wasn't blushing anymore. Green, however, had refused in sitting from Bill's gesture: well, that's Green for you.

Bill strode across them and sat on the table's chair, looking pleasant.

At last, Green finally made up his mind and angrily pulled the curtains of Bill's sliding door close, and that there was no more light left in the room — Yellow gave a loud yelp.

"Green! Why did you just do that?" she cried into the darkness, feeling nothing but the soft cushion of Bill's bed when she made to get up, and was pushed back down again.

"Don't panic," said Red, who was chuckling: Yellow frowned — but when she looked up, she saw two floating orbs above her, and they were the same colour as Red's eyes: and they were _floating_. . . They were _floating_. What the hell. . .

"What the —" Yellow began shrilly, her eyes wide, but she felt a hand cuff her mouth — she guessed it was Red's — and she had immediately been silenced.

"Please don't panic," said Red in a hurt tone — his eyes were the only thing that was lighting in the room — and, when Yellow looked around the surroundings, she spotted two emerald-green orbs floating as well — which she guessed were Green's — and a small glint of light that was trying to get through the curtains. It took Yellow a few seconds to realize whether or not this was normal.

"You're —"

"Our eyes glow in the dark, yeah, now let's skip that." Green's tone was so stressed and impatient, Yellow just obeyed. She thought that Red shrugged, because he usually does that when he rolls his eyes — which were obviously seen in the dark — and they floated downward; she felt Red land on the bed beside her, and she scooted a few inches to save some space. "Bill — d'you know what this means?"

"Yeah," said Bill. "Kyogre's coming to Mirage Island — and Rayquaza already is on the island off the coast of Pacifidlog. This is one disaster we're not escaping."

"How much time do we have?" said Green hurriedly — Yellow raised her eyebrows: what were they going to do about it? "There's someone out there who's already touched the orbs, I know it, and they obviously want to get here to get something here. And they're using Kyogre to summon Rayquaza, who has the ability to control the weather, thus, affecting when Mirage Island will reappear again —"

"That's what the one who's touched the Blue Jewel wants?" Yellow cried loudly, pieces falling back together in the puzzle. "But we're going to have to reappear — and that's in Lilycove! We're going to collide with the time and space in Hoenn sooner! So that must mean we could stop Kyogre —"

"Yeah, but we have the Jewels," said Green dismissively, shooting Yellow's idea down. "So that must mean whoever wants to get to Mirage Island, they'll have a reason."

"But how are we going to stop Kyogre from coming? And isn't Groudon running a bit late?" said Yellow, her spirits shattering. She thought she saw Green's luminous eyes glint and swore to herself to shut up.

"That's just the thing, isn't it?" said Green frustratingly — but he wasn't mad with her at all. She felt Red flinch beside her when his eyes averted to him. "We don't know how to stop them! And we don't know why Groudon is late!"

"Well," Red began suddenly. Everyone turned to him. "Aren't we supposed to be worried of Yellow's family?"


	27. In Time

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**I'm really, really, REALLY sorry that last chapter was SO boring and REALLY in the lowest of your list of high expectations. . . I've been hurrying, see, and I only had a few minutes' time before our limited connection to the internet has lost availability! **_

_**Yay Soul X3 I guess you're gonna have to read to find out what happened to Daisy ; ) Oh? I've never thought my descriptions have been good or anything. . . I've kind of thought I'd lost my touch ever since. So thanks!**_

_**Ejaculated loudly. . . Yeah, I know, it's a curious word. When I first read it in a children's book, I was like, "WHAT THE HECK IS THIS DOING HERE?" Then I looked it up in the dictionary. Yet the word EJACULATED + GOLD = Misunderstandings ; )**_

_**Yay Soul X3 [again ; )] Yeah! It's great to see you catching up about Bill! But things aren't what they seem. . . Muwahahahahahahahaha! And yep, natural light. The curtains were being closed of the window . . . simply because they don't want to be overheard — or IS it just that? **_

_**There's also a reason why they haven't escaped from Mirage Island every three months for (in Green's case) 14 years, and (for Red's case) 10 years. Just read! It's all a mystery! **_

_**Split Heart 1120: It's because — sorry for the spoiler, guys — Barty's resurrected Kyogre from its sleep, and he still can't wake Groudon up, because he hasn't touched the Red Jewel! Wheeeeeee!**_

_**XXX We're the same =( I fight with my younger sister all the time, too. She gets clothes from my closet EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY LIFE SINCE 5**__**TH**__** GRADE and she STILL does that. She only gets permission from me at the end of the day or something. **_

_**Actually, I've got many friends — but, unfortunately, they're almost ALL boys. Even my best friends are BOYS. And two of them are my crushes! And I just CAN'T say anything about GIRLS around BOYS, can I?**_

_**Hmm. . . Barty using pawns to manipulate Kyogre. . . That doesn't sound like a very bad idea! I think it'll come in handy, too! Thanks! **_

_**Aww, you're so sweet! (SHAKES YOUR HAND INSTEAD =) ) Thanks a bunch for the pizza!**_

**ME: **_**Okie Dokie! In this chapter, just keep in mind the scene of the 'black food colouring-like substance' and it's exactly like that of in a Pensieve in the Harry Potter movies! That's right. You'd have to be a Harry Potter addict to recognize these descriptions (SMILES)**_

**YELLOW: **_**(READS CHAPTER) Well, as this chapter's about Gold, it's got some perverse views. . .**_

**ME: **_**I just hope I got his character right. And I always seem to forget that Gold's FOURTEEN here! Oh, and do you like my name? Meridian Diamond! Great! I was also thinking Midnight Quartz, but, meh. . . I changed my penname because I've got a YouTube account, so I'm easily identified of my identity in the internet. And NO, Bill is NOT homosexual here. **_

**25****th**** CHAPTER: IN TIME**

**LOG THIRTEEN **

**SAME TIME; SAME PLACE — MIRAGE ISLAND — FAST **

**SAME TIME; SAME PLACE — SKY PILLAR'S ISLAND**

"**O**kay Mantaro," said Gold, licking his lips with the tip of his tongue — it wasn't a delicacy, but he was so used to it. Gold had to hold on to Mantaro just to not get swept by the strong wind — though Uncle Wilton was having it real bad, in Gold's opinion, since the poor bloke hasn't flown on a pokémon before: let alone hanging on to its tail. He gripped his hands around Mantaro's erected ears and pulled. "Down!"

"Holy sh — AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The speed of Mantaro's glide downward had been thought out so precipitously, Gold's hair had flown in the wind — he could literally feel his cheeks being pulled backward his ears — his cheeks even blocked his ears from hearing Uncle Wilton's loud screams. Hell, the only sound he could hear was the disturbing noise of his skin flapping against his ears and, of course, the strong wind blowing — his heart seemed to have been left behind the spot they'd taken downward, yet he could still feel its strong beating.

They were nearly there now — the dark trees were shadowed by the taller ones, and he could see a faint light glowing — it was then that he realized his uncle had been right — but what it was, he never found out — his squinted eyes widened when he just became conscious that they were only a few feet away from the ground —

Mantaro lost control of his glide and hit the muddy ground, wet — there was a sort of splatting noise that would have been a loud thud had there not been rain a few minutes ago — Gold held his breath so that the mud won't enter his mouth — he swore to God he felt his hand touch in the mud even _before_ Mantaro landed — the impact wasn't so great — in fact, it was barely an impact at all — since it was, after all, _mud_. Headfirst at the impact, Mantaro let out a loud groan, his face in the mud; bubbles appeared after.

"Oh damn it."

As Gold attempted to straighten his hat, he wiped his face clean with his other free hand — once most of the mud was out of his face, he said, his lips thick with mud still, "I'm never going to steer Mantaro gliding again."

"Abreeeebd."

Uncle Wilton was struggling to pull himself out of the mud, facedown; bubbles popping sluggishly whenever he breathed. Gold wanted to help Mantaro out of the mud, but he, too, had troubles — he couldn't see anything in the night's darkness, but he was so sure he could feel his feet stuck to the mud: he tried his best to pull his ankle from it, even using both his hands — he must've used up all his force because when he finally did pull it out, he received a painful kick in the forehead courtesy of his knee.

"Oooooowww," he groaned through clenched teeth, rubbing his forehead. He rested his free foot on Mantaro's head and tried to pull out his injured one — this, he knew, was going to be hard. Gold could already feel the pain in his ankle and that the bandages were coming loose: he hurriedly used up all his strength he'd mustered, and ignored the excruciating pain, wincing. "Hold on, Mantaro — as soon as I get this foot out of the mud, I'll get your head the hell outta there."

Mantaro let out a loud noise that was cross between a growl and a moan: bubbles in the mud popped. Bubbles. . . That reminded Gold of something — an idea flashed inside his mind.

"Mantaro! You could use your Water-Type attacks!" Gold exclaimed brightly — he should have thought of out before. "Go on! Use _Water Gun_!"

Mantaro flapped his wings — or fins — feebly, and Gold's spirits fell — but no sooner than that, water started to flood the muddy area. Gold smirked: he should have thought of this before, indeed. Gold couldn't see the area being flooded, though he was sure that the water had reached his ankle already; the sound of water rushing in the quiet had echoed in the forest.

"Yeah, that's it!" said Gold gleefully, as he finally felt his foot loose in the mud — he struggled to pull it out, but it was with more apparent ease than last time: there was some kind of splatting noise, and the bandages of his injured ankle seemed to, he think, last this and he'll just have to endure the pain. Squirming, he finally managed to pull his foot out — a weird noise that was not unlike a plunger being pulled from the sink echoed at the same time with his foot.

Groaning, he placed his injured ankle on Mantaro's head, beaming — but his smile faded instantly when he felt water on Mantaro's head.

"Mantaro!" he exclaimed — he hurriedly had to scramble just to help his pokémon resurface: he slowly had to move his injured ankle away, though. "All right, all right — where're your gills — gills — gills — dammit!"

He put his hand underwater, and felt his way to Mantaro's gills just to pull him out. _How big is his head, anyway?_ Gold wondered gravely.

"How about _I_ help?" said a voice from behind them — Gold flinched and his heart seemed to drop, but he didn't stop feeling for Mantaro's gills: he'd completely forgotten about his Uncle —

It was really dark out, so Gold figured he didn't need to look behind him, anyway, because he already knew it was Uncle Wilton — he felt his uncle sit right next to him, and his arms went straight down the water with a splash.

"Some gills of Water-types have been located beside their lower jawline, and Mantaro may be one of them," Uncle explained, making splashing noises in the water. Gold nodded, panicking, randomly had to wave his hands in the water — his uncle would definitely be the one to find it in time. He just wanted to give this one up.

But then he felt a sort of different texture in the water — it was sort of rough, and they were kind of creasy . . . and it had an opening. This must definitely be his gills —

"I goddit!" he exclaimed, a sort of manic gleam in his eye as he did — Gold tried to pull his head of the ground, but all he only did was make Mantaro stifle a loud moan — a huge bubble must have escaped from his breathing, because he heard a quiet pop.

"You're hurting the thing!" bellowed Uncle — Gold's ears throbbed.

"Well, sorry I don't know about Fishology!" he retorted loudly still. He heard Uncle Wilton make a rough noise that sounded much more like, "tchah!" than a normal sound at all, and he once again dipped both his hands in the water.

"Found them!" Uncle shouted aloud. Gold excitedly dipped his hands underwater and nodded.

"On the count of th —"

Gold heaved Mantaro's head up with all his strength — he felt his veins sprout from his arms —

"Oh, never mind," moaned Uncle Wilton.

Mantaro's head emerged from the mud — wet with the water — and let out a huge, echoing roar in the forest — his antennae were twitching happily.

"All right, all right — return to your pokéball!" said Gold impatiently — he held up his pokéball while also stepping out of him, making sure that they were out of his back before he'll get back to his ball. He wasn't going to let them go back to the mud, was he? A red beam of light shot out of the pokéball as Gold opened it — Mantaro, who was lying on the mud, flapping his wings — or fins — energetically, obediently stood still now and let himself get sucked.

Not even a second after that, Mantaro was being engulfed by the light: his figure was disappearing into the pokéball, and he was sucked.

"Great!"

"Gold," said Uncle Wilton in the darkness. Gold shrugged and figured there was no time to gloat — he was going to revel later, anyway. Even though he didn't know which direction Uncle's voice came from, he still glanced to the left. He could only rely on his sense of hearing now, since there was basically nothing to see in the darkness: Uncle Wilton moved toward the bushes, Gold having perceived the rustling noise.

"You'd better take a good look at this. . ." Uncle Wilton breathed. Gold noticed he was a bit . . . exhilarated? What, was it the reason behind the flash of light? Determined to find out yet scared to get himself hit by the tree, he groped in the nothingness and felt his way to Uncle Wilton — he was so paranoid from getting his face hit by a trunk, a single noise such as the cracking of a twig made him flinch. It was when his right knee bumped into a large object — and when he heard a grunt — did he stop and sit down next to his uncle.

"Okay — this may look weird. . . But I'm really sure this is the thing that caused the light," murmured Uncle Wilton — Gold was certain he didn't feel his gaze upon him, so he fixed his on his uncle's: Uncle Wilton moved apart the bushes with rustles, and Gold reflexively closed his eyes because a sharp, blinding light shone in front of him behind the bushes of the thicket.

He grunted, shielding his eyes with his arms over his face — he really couldn't stand the strong light: it was blinding him. . . And even while he closed his eyes, the sharp light seemed to shine through his eyelids. Gold wanted to step back and run away, but Uncle Wilton caught his hand and he forcibly had to stick Gold's palm to the ground: his body landed on the mossy ground with a thud.

"Open your eyes. It's not as harmful as it may seem," whispered Uncle Wilton ominously. If Gold had been correct, Uncle Wilton was squinting his eyes in magnificence, if not in focus to see. Not as harmful as it may . . . ? Easy for the old man to say, Gold thought, seething. "The pokémon's hurt. . ."

Pokémon?

"What pokémon?" Gold exclaimed loudly — he responded so immediately, he opened his eyes. He could've sworn he felt his eyes burn — he let out a loud grunt of pain and covered his eyes with his hands. Uncle Wilton stood up to shush him down, but Gold, being an idiot, let out another audible groan.

"Gold, shut up — shut up," Uncle repeated under his breath, turning his attention to Gold now. Seething, he rubbed his eyes with his fingers and saw lights behind his eyelid — balls of rainbow-coloured lights. . .

"It's hard to shut up when you've nearly gone blind!" said Gold, hating Uncle Wilton, and, with one eye open, he tilted his head upward, creasing his forehead — in front of him, a small, delicate-looking creature floated off the ground a few feet in the air, an ominous light-green aura surrounding it — its antennae were twitching in an adorable way, their tips glowing a faint light not unlike the colour of its glow — Gold panned his eyes to its, and it was then he realized that the pokémon was staring right back at him with nothing less than curiosity and, if he wasn't mistaken, surprise.

"Oh my God —"

The small green pokémon gave an ear-piercing screech that made Gold drop to his knees, and Uncle Wilton pushed down Gold's head into the bush protectively — though Gold was never appreciative nor was he grateful of this since his face was now scratched by the bushes' thorns: he clamped his fingers tight to his ears and closed his eyes just in case.

His eardrums were throbbing, and he felt his entire body tremble in the unpleasant noise — it seemed that the very ground shook in fear — Gold opened one eye again forcibly, his eyelid literally slamming close — the green pokémon's eyes glowed dangerously, and it was floating in a stance that made Gold shudder to think that it was literally going to attack them —

His heart nearly stopped pumping his blood, practically making his veins pop up from his skin — and his stomach began to consume itself in fear — his brain had gone numb in his skull, making him unable to think clearly; everything in the surroundings were seemed to not stay in the same shape for long — their colours were changing, and the entire forest was shifting its composition — even the ground . . . it looked like brown paint randomly mixed with black, and the thought alone made the skin behind his neck stand on end; they were now crouching down on nothing —

Gold's eyes were now literally hurting because of the unbalanced shapes and the shifting environment — he wanted to turn his head to something else, but he couldn't avert his throbbing pupils from the surroundings changing their forms. . .

Now, the entire space was uneven, and they wasted no second in shifting form — they were moving miraculously, and they didn't seem to stop. . . Gold's eyes were slowly getting out of focus, and they were tired from the same changing background. . . He suddenly didn't know what was happening anymore, and all he could do was dig his nails to the ground.

Suddenly, the environment became a rough slate colour, and the shrill noise the pokémon made had now subsided into soft whispers — whispers of different people at the same time. Thinking that there might soon be a problem, Gold wasted no time in getting up awkwardly — what with unclear eyesight and his throbbing ears — and closing his exhausted, left eye and opening only his perfect right one. He leaned on his uncle, feeling a bit tipsy and unbalanced, and said, feeling as though he'd just ran a mile, "Uncle — Uncle Wilton — what's goin' on?"

The only reply he got from Uncle Wilton was a stifled groan. Literally starting to get worried, Gold attempted to make a straight standing position, but all he did was loll straight, and then his uncle feebly stood up, still wobbling.

"I — I don't know," he managed to choke out — he'd have collapsed had Gold not swung his shoulder in time. He noticed that Uncle Wilton, after giving his nod of thanks, had stopped dead and was so fixed in something. Gold, curious, followed his gaze with his one right eye open: his heart began to sink.

The pokémon had disappeared — and it left the both of them in the middle of nowhere. Feeling his lungs slightly out of place, Gold's breathing had suddenly quickened, and he, in a state of panic, glanced in all directions, determined to find at least a small figure that will lead them out.

"Where the hell are we?" Uncle Wilton breathed in Gold's ear, but he was about to ask the same thing. He stared at where he stood, and realized there wasn't a trace of shadow. . . He desperately looked above the both of them — nothing but the dull colour of pewter. . . But he looked there just in time, because unbelievingly, black, food colouring-like substance fall from above them — 'sky' would be a questionable word — and scatter much like a food colouring's particles scattering the open space of water.

Gold dreadfully looked around them, his eyes wide with fear, and the black substance engulfed the entire space until they reached what seemed to be what they're standing on — to Gold's incredulity and horror, the entire scene changed within the blink of an eye — Uncle Wilton gave a loud gasp, whereas Gold just stared; they were at a lush island, the corner of the sea, the shore, and the sun was now shining — it wasn't already morning now, was it? There were towering trees that surrounded them, and the both of them were next to two people — a boy and a girl.

Gold wanted to listen to them, but was focused in feeling the soft grass with his sneakers — the strong wind blew by, and before Gold reacted that everything was real, Uncle Wilton seized him by the arm and cuffed his hand over his mouth and hid behind the tree.

"Keep quiet and listen!" whispered Uncle Wilton, his eyes focused on the two brunettes — he really should wash his hands every now and then. Gold dug his tooth deep into his skin, but Uncle Wilton didn't even wince. Gold feebly struggled and lifted his healthy foot to aim a good kick at his uncle, but his efforts were wasted. "Listen Gold, after I'll tell you my thoughts, you'll remain quiet and focus on the children!"

Gold thought about this for a moment. Well, the girl _is_ cute. . . He nodded his response.

"Okay. . . That pokémon was called Celebi. I've heard of it before — trust me, I know you'll never believe this, but it's a pokémon that can cross _time_. That's why we were in that warped space earlier!"

Uncle Wilton slowly put away his hand in order to hear Gold's comment. Gold spit some sweat that entered his mouth and whispered, "So that was _time_?"

"Yes. But get this; I think it wants us to see this scene of its encounters. . ."

"What, you mean it's brought us here for a reason?" yelped Gold. Uncle Wilton sighed heavily and forced Gold to move his head in the direction of the children.

They looked no older than thirteen, and no younger than ten, so maybe they're at least eleven or at most thirteen: the boy's auburn hair was elegantly bouncing in the wind, and his shirt had literally been blundered by the breeze, yet he didn't seem to care at all — he jumped over a small boulder, and dug his hands deep in his purple shorts' pockets: Gold couldn't help but notice that he bore no scars of his feet even though he looked rascally, and there was an air of arrogance behind him as his friend slowly made way to follow him.

The girl looked at the grass, her hair flying in the wind almost gracefully — Gold raised his eyebrows so that his pupils were just below his eyeballs to take a glimpse of under her skirt, but alas, he only saw her perfect legs. _Shit she's cute_. They were both making their way to the huge rock — really huge rock — which the waves were crashing on. But Gold was only thinking in his head some . . . unpleasant views. _Damn it. Those are the most perfect legs I've seen_.

"Bill," piped up the girl in what seemed close to a British accent — and Gold noticed she was blushing. Her emerald-green eyes seemed to stay rooted on her feet, much rather than facing her friend.

The boy — whose name was Bill — wheeled around and raised his eyebrows at her, "What is it?"

The girl didn't lift her head up to face him, though she was still talking to Bill. She seemed hesitant, and moreover, embarrassed. "What if — what if I don't make it out of here? What if _we_ don't make it out of this horrid place? Not ever?"

Bill crouched down to the level of her waist, and sat on his knee — jealousy bubbled inside Gold's stomach. He looked up at her and smiled.

"We will. I promise," he took her hand and massaged it with his soft fingers smoothly. He stood up to his full height, and, pointing his thumb to his neck, he added, "Come on, Daisy, when have I ever let you down?"

Daisy — who was obviously the girl — finally looked up from her shy gaze and stifled a small, yet radiant smile. Uncle Wilton released Gold of his grip and Gold absentmindedly leaned on the tree in front of him, fixed with the girl.

"Not once," she said timidly, blushing once more.

Unexpectedly, Gold lost his balance and fell to the ground facedown.

"Augh, God," he muttered through gritted teeth. He stood up roughly, and he massaged his forehead sorely: when he managed to get up limply, the bandages of his injured ankle almost completely loose, he found that everything was now suddenly engulfed once more in the black substance, and again, the environment seemed to be much like a concentrated matter like water.

He gasped and took one step back with his healthy foot. Uncle Wilton caught him by the shoulders again and the both of them turned to where the black substance turned to — this reminded Gold of being inside the water park, where aquariums are all around them . . . and that the only dry place was the tunnel that separated the aquarium from the park.

The black shadow-like thing turned to the sky: and again, it scattered weirdly all around the background. Gold had to crane his neck just to know where this Celebi thing was taking them . . . or maybe when.

As the black, food colouring-like substance touched where they were standing on, the scene once again shifted — the slate colour around them formed slowly into familiar shapes, such as trees and bushes — it was definitely night-time now, and obviously, it was bright enough to see the scene. Uncle Wilton pulled Gold down the bushes and they watched fixedly: this time, there was a building, a rather small one, though it was twice as large as Barty's hut, Gold angrily compared.

Unpredictably, the sliding door of the white building opened, and Gold had no trouble recognizing the person who'd dashed away from the edifice: it was Daisy, and she seemed to be hurrying. Not long after, another familiar figure emerged from the place, and Gold had just to guess it had been Bill. A thought only appeared in his mind like this — _She went out of his room in the middle of the _night_? Damn it. I thought she's still a virgin. _

Daisy stopped a little far from Bill as he locked his door and hurried after her, flashlight held aloft as though he was sure someone had been spying on them from above. When he was fully certain now, he rushed into the forest to accompany Daisy, panting. In closer inspection, when Gold had to squint his eyes and look in the moonlight, they were both wearing thick clothes.

When Gold came to think of it, it was a bit breezier now: the wind was really strong now, and he felt the pitter-patter of the rain. He glanced sideways at his uncle: he was now wearing a hankie over his head and felt a sudden feeling of envy.

"Hurry!" whispered Bill's voice hoarsely: he pushed Daisy into the forest, glancing back anxiously. They made their way through the forest, pulling their hoods on — thunder cracked — Gold gave a gasp and realized that Daisy and Bill were already out of their sight. He made to stand up and pulled Uncle Wilton up with him as the rain began to pour.

"Come _on_!"

Uncle Wilton scrambled to get up, and Gold, too, had pulled up his hood so that he could block the rain off his hair. He pointed at the deeper part of the forest and made a run for it, knowing full well that his uncle had been following.

He yanked aside a tree branch annoyingly and stepped on several twigs along the way — he could've sworn he heard Uncle Wilton wince terribly after a sound of something being hit and Gold saved himself a smirk — he'd followed Bill and Daisy's shadows — and their flashlight had been a dead giveaway — and hastened to quicken his speed — his injured ankle was still stinging in pain, but he also wanted to see what was going to happen —

The rain had poured harder, and before he knew it, the ground was now starting to get muddier and muddier — he swore as his ankle took another venomous sting and managed to endure that — but not for long — he panted, his vision becoming foggier as the rain fell — his hair was now wet — wetter than before — and he felt his cap under his hood loosen — but that didn't matter now —

He could see faint light ahead, which he grudgingly knew to be lightning — the faster he got, the surer he was that Daisy and Bill were headed for the shore since he could feel the waves crashing, and a thought crossed his mind — they weren't going to get out of here by _boat_, were they? Gold took a big breath and stopped running when he reached the sandy shore just behind a bush.

Apparently, he got there a bit earlier than the two, so he waited in bated breath, wiping the water off his forehead with his sleeve. As he did, he felt another sharp prickle in his ankle — he gave a loud grunt and shook his head wearily, sitting down and wrapping off the bandages of his wound slowly.

It looked worse: it seemed that while he was running through the wilderness, he's attained several scratch marks — he was, after all, wearing shorts. . . Gold rewrapped the bandages, now more secured and tightly, and didn't react when Uncle Wilton made it, panting resignedly, wet with rain.

"How long are we going to keep u-up?" he said, collapsing to the sandy ground. Gold didn't answer that. Instead he raised his head and peeped into the shore when he heard voices.

What Gold saw made him gasp — there wasn't any water _at all_ in the ocean right now — but an unbelievable view of a large land, and apparently, they were _above_ of it — they'd been floating — this island was floating — the trees of the land were touched by the soil layer of the island Gold was on, and he couldn't believe his eyes. . .

Daisy and Bill made it into the clearing, wet with the rain —

"Bill —" Daisy began, a note of hesitance in her voice — she looked at Bill squarely in the eyes, though Bill seemed to be too serious about something.

"Go! Just go! I don't want — please! They're gonna be here any moment now!" he said, his voice cracking — he had to push Daisy by the shoulder — but not too hard — yet Daisy still was determined to say something to him.

"What about you? Aren't you coming?" she asked shrilly, for the wind had just grown stronger. Bill was now distractedly looking at his feet, gulping. The rain had made the two of them wet and exhausted.

"I — I can't," he said, clenching and unclenching his fists. Daisy looked as though her heart sunk. She breathed heavily now, and she couldn't understand a word Bill was saying.

"What do you mean, you can't?" she said, tears flowing from her emerald-green eyes. "We have to go now! We still have a chance!"

She was a few feet away from where she started since they got here, and Gold knew immediately what Bill was on to.

He clicked his tongue and blinked several times, clearing his throat. "I—this is what I was here for—to save you — I'll get out of here eventually —"

"You can't!" Daisy shrieked — she grabbed the opportunity to shout again as the lightning flashed dangerously and the thunder followed, "You can't leave me like this! Please — my brother — you told me he's held here by my grandfather — and I can't get them back since it's Grandpa's job — I know they'll be back — someday — but you. . . You promised you'd be my best friend — you'll always be there for me. . . Bill — don't leave me. . ."

She unexpectedly pulled him by the wrist — Bill's eyes widened — they were locked so close, Gold was sure their noses were against each other now — Daisy, with both her hands, pulled his head to hers and — Gold's heart broke — their lips were pressed together — Gold was _sure_ he saw her tongue stuck out even _before_ they'd kissed and had been certain now that she was licking his lips now. She gave a soft moan of delight as Bill opened his mouth — but in Gold's opinion, was out of surprise and he looked like he had no intention of kissing back —

Bill pulled away, frowning —

"I'm sorry Daisy," he whispered sadly, his voice literally cracking. Before Daisy even had to say something, he _pushed_ her off the island and on the land — she screamed — Gold's eyes widened — lightning flashed and thunder followed not long after —

"NNNOOOO!" Gold shouted, charging after Bill, who didn't seem to have heard him —

"Gold, no!" Uncle Wilton yelled after him — but Gold didn't listen — he just wanted to _rip_ the douchebag to shreds — he aimed his fist for his head when he was only a few feet away — but he just _went through_ him like a ghost — he landed on the sand, facedown.

"Green's told me I should just stay here for the time being," Bill said to himself, and he didn't hurry away because he looked depressed —

Gold heaved himself up from the sand, spitting dirt, and watched, horrified, just in time as the sand turned into odourless black smoke — it was then he realized that the scene was changing, and the food colouring-like substance was acting upward again —

His clothes were now dry, and the sand was disappearing from his face — he was just staring at the pewter-shade floor — there's no other word for it, anyway — his mind slowing down. He stood up, and even though he was as clean as before, he still patted his shirt for dirt.

"What's next?" said Uncle Wilton, his voice echoing in the space, ignoring the black, food colouring-like substance creepily moving downward the floor.

"I don't understand," Gold said, trembling. "Why'd Bill stay?"

"We'll see," said Uncle Wilton seriously. "But he did say that 'Green' wanted something of him to do."

"Maybe this scene shows who Green is," said Gold wonderingly, pleasantly watching the shadows touch the floor as the scene changed at once.

Much to Gold's surprise, the entire space was now pure white: they seemed to be inside a building in the middle of the day, since the windows were open with sunlight — beds were formed and so were tables — all white. Gold took one step backward in awe — there was a golden chandelier brought up and it was turned on even though it was morning. The tiles of the floor were made up now, and the wallpaper, too, was a pearly colour of silver.

This scene was constructed in a faster pace than the last two — people have appeared as if out of the food colouring-like substance that seemed to turn to black, odourless smoke — nurses and doctors were running here and there, each looking after their own patients.

They, too, seemed to pass through Gold and Uncle Wilton without even knowing it like ghosts. The only difference between the ghosts and them was that they turn to black smoke rather than white.

Now that everything seemed to be complete, the swishing noises that seemed to follow the formation of the thick food colouring-like substance had subsided, and the incomprehensible murmurs sharpened into understandable words.

At the end of the row of beds, there were two children lying, apparently, in a deep coma. Gold's breathing had quickened, and his sympathy stretched — he felt his heart sink, and he rushed over to the two boys' beds, clutching their rails with his sweaty palms, his left on the left bed, and so with the right.

The boy on the left bed was still breathing — but more slowly than the boy to the right. . . His dark hair was stuck on end, and he seemed to be having trouble inhaling air — his face seemed so innocent, though inside, Gold thought pityingly, it was full of deep marks. He seemed a bit tall for his age — delicate, though — and there was something of him that made Gold remind of himself when _he_ was younger. His hair was really unruly, not as elegantly unruly as Gold's was, but he didn't like to boast, and he seemed to purposely not cut it for what looked like 3 years.

The boy's skin wasn't tanned, nor was it as white as Edward Cullen's. He looked like a very healthy boy, in Gold's opinion, so why would he lie in this bed? He had now figured out that he and Uncle Wilton were in some sort of sanatorium in a bigger building — but why would Celebi, whatever its reasons, show them this scene?

Gold looked at the right bed, where the boy with brown hair was lying — he was pale, and looked like he'd been in this state longer than the other one, maybe a few seconds longer. He didn't have trouble breathing, unlike the black-haired boy did, but this one seemed to shudder every now and then, which Gold guessed was because of his dreams. He seemed to be quite tall for his age, just like the other boy, but this one was probably taller — again, Gold saw no reason for these two boys to have attained such injuries that would lead them to be like this. His hair was a bit spikier and he'd definitely not combed his hair at least _once_, as if the other boy's hair was bad enough.

Comparing the two children, Gold concluded that they were around the same age — and that whatever led them to this may be an accident. But he had a weird feeling about the brunette . . . as if he's seen someone like him before — long hair. . . He just looked familiar, but he hasn't' seen a boy like him before. . .

"Some kids, right?" whispered Uncle Wilton, whistling.

The doors of the infirmary burst open, and Gold, forgetting he wasn't real in this scene, literally hid behind the thing closest him.

It was an old man with thick, greying hair wearing a lab coat and long, khaki pants — he seemed to be a bit healthier than people his age, managing to run that fast. His footsteps echoed inside the room, as nothing else made any noises. He panted halfway to the bed on Gold's right, and knelt to the floor, gasping before he did, covering his face with his hands. Gold curiously cocked his head to the side to look at the old man's expression, but he couldn't see a trace of his face.

"Green — Green — please — be awake. . ."

"Bloody hell," whispered Gold, his eyes widening, "that kid's _Green_?"

Uncle Wilton only hushed him.

The boy stirred — Gold stuttered — the kid's _not_ in a coma after all. . .

He moaned, and suddenly, he opened his eyes slowly, blinking repeatedly — Gold's heart skipped a beat — a striking, emerald-green shade — a familiar green shade — the shape of the eyes — the colour of the hair — it all made sense. . .

Green scanned the room with his half-open eyes. He then opened them widely when his eyes landed upon the old man, passing Gold, and he gave a groan, "G-Grandpa?"

His grandfather lifted his face from his hands, wiping tears off his face. He hugged his grandson affectionately and clapped him on the back.

"Green — how — what — where —"

He broke their embrace and faced him with a worried expression.

"What on earth were you thinking?" he said miserably. The boy's expression didn't change, however, it was a cold, unemotional face that Gold was surprised the old man was used to it because he was acting as though he wasn't shocked. "You'd touched the Jewel!"

"I didn't mean it," muttered Green indifferently. "Red and I've just entered your office — we were searching for you, you know. . ."

"But that doesn't mean you'd have to touch them!" his grandfather bellowed.

"Grandpa, you're shouting again," said Green, and there was now a slight look of fear in his expression that Gold almost missed. His grandfather sighed and shook his head.

"I can't be mad at you," he said, lifting up Green's chin. "You're much too young."

"S'not like you couldn't forgive me," Green mumbled, more to himself than to his grandfather. Something shined in his eyes that made Gold flinch — was it just his imagination, or . . . ? He's just seen it. . . There'd been a glint, and he was sure Green's grandfather did, too, because his face fell in understanding. . .

Suddenly, the other boy in the bed next to them woke up unexpectedly and started to panic, shouting.

"Waaaah! Where am I? What the —? Is this a room? What happened to the m-monsters?" the black-haired boy cried.

Green's grandfather sighed and Green said in a quite different tone, "Hi Red."

Red — the black-haired boy — turned to face them — his eyes were a brilliant crimson-red. "G-Green! Wh — we're still in Mirage Island, right?"

"_Mirage Island_?"

Gold turned to look at his uncle, who had his mouth wide open. Behind Uncle Wilton, the background once again was thick with black smoke that came from above — they shifted and the environment was surrounded by the black food colouring-like smoke until it was suddenly a forest — they were back — but they didn't go anywhere — everything disappeared — it was the forest again. . .

Gold spotted Celebi, the green time-travelling pokémon, and rushed forward, jumping up the bush, from where Uncle Wilton was ("Wait! Gold!") and shouted at it, determined to find out the truth.

"That girl — Daisy — she's Professor Oak's granddaughter — the old man . . . he was Green's grandfather too!"

The green pokémon nodded its head slowly. Gold went on.

"Bill was the boy who helped Daisy escape and she was safe in Lilycove — and the two boys. . . They currently hold the Jewels that control Kyogre and Groudon, don't they? They were in that clinic because they'd been overwhelmed by the power the Jewels held!"

Celebi gave another curt nod. Gold took a deep breath and asked what he wanted to all this time.

"All those scenes — they happened in Mirage Island. . . But there's still a question I want answered — what is Bill's purpose in Mirage Island that made him stay? What did Green want him to do?"


	28. Answers and Left Alone

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**I guess I left you lot in another cliff-hanger! Whee! I love this story thing XD This chapter shows things about YELLOW! XD Go, Yellow, go! AND MERRY CHRISTMAS TO AAAAAAALLLLL! Happy New Year, as well! XD XD XD XD XD XD**_

_**Yay Soul X3: The flashbacks of what happened in Mirage Island! I made Bill and Daisy's scene as DRAMATIC as possible, since this is my first time writing one =P True, it WAS tragic, but there's a twist later in the story. **_

_**This chapter, the Bill-of-the-present is the centre! YEAH! And YELLOW! WHEE! I really miss her after 21 days of writing about GOLD! Thanks for reviewing, have a cupcake ^-^**_

_**Split Heart1120: Am I being too obvious now? It's like you can READ MY MIND like XXX can right now! Doughnuts for you, too! XD**_

_**Moonlit Obsidian Frost Zanpakto19: Nah, it's all right. I was expecting another review — the last chapter, I was like, 'something's missing. . .' XD You could figure out some of the missing bits a few chapters ago in here, but the missing bits of last chapter would be filled NEXT chapter =D If you still want some cassava cake, I've still got some XP**_

_**XXX: I know T-T I've found my long-lost sibling! YAY! We're friends now! Wheeee! **_

_**True, Bill WILL escape with Green, Red and Yellow. But not at the same 'time.' Get it? Hmm. . . What Green wanted Bill to do, huh? Well, considering he was only FOUR YEARS OLD at the time, I think it was kinda stupid of me to come up with that. **_

_**Good God — YOU'VE DONE IT AGAIN! I can't believe it. You'd make a GREAT detective someday, you know that? That storm and the reason Green wanted Bill to stay has something in common. And because of your great detective work, you'll get a doughnut with sprinkles on top! Okay, okay — I'm bankrupt!**_

**ME: **_**Okay, this story, I'm guessing you're thinking, is almost starting to centre on Green and Bill rather than Red or Yellow. Well — you're right. But not to fear! Give me suggestions — ANY suggestions — about Specialshipping and about Red, and I'm gonna take it into consideration putting it in the story! Don't blame ME for starting this mental idea. I was eleven when I started. Don't break an eleven-year-old's fragile heart. You could break mine NOW, though. I'm, like, thirteen now. And where I'm from, it's considered a legal age to be high school. **_

**YELLOW: **_**I'm still confused.**_

**ME: **_**Right — thanks for the reminder — and although these are separate chapters, Gold's and Yellow's events happen at the SAME TIME. Meaning, while Gold's doing this and that, Yellow's doing that and doing this in separate chapters in the same time! Get it? For instance; on the first paragraph of Gold's progress, Yellow's doing her thing around the first paragraph of HER progress in each according chapter! **_

**GOLD: **_**I don't get it. **_

**26****th**** CHAPTER: ANSWERS AND LEFT ALONE**

**LOG FOURTEEN**

**SAME TIME; SAME PLACE — MIRAGE ISLAND — FAST**

**SAME TIME; SAME PLACE — SKY PILLAR ISLAND**

**Y**ellow just shrugged at Red.

"My cousin could handle himself, anyway," she mumbled almost inaudibly, squinting her eyes for there had been only dim light just enough to see the colour of their skin. Yellow had the feeling Red, however, had raised his eyebrows because his eyes had been perfectly circle.

Green made a loud clearing of his throat at the corner — Red turned to him — whereas Yellow only followed where Green's glowing eyes were. He was standing next to the huge, sliding window-door, Yellow could tell, since she could see a bit of him with the sunlight outside.

"Oh Green," said Yellow — she'd suddenly remembered something. . . Something she should have asked him earlier. It seemed as though Green's expression had suddenly changed when she had directed to him. "I've got a question to ask you — since Red didn't tell me exactly the answer earlier —"

"I told you what I knew!" Red cried innocently. She ignored him and went on as if she didn't hear anything or see anything weird as red orbs floating with a voice.

"You lot stayed in Mirage Island. Bill seems as though he only stayed here because it was important — rescuing girls like me, you know — but you and Red could've got away while you still had to," she added, half-blushing, and nodding her head to Red. "Why'd you stay as well?"

This time, Green had fallen silent — his floating eyes had now turned to the floor, and there was an apparent change of atmosphere — Yellow felt sheepishness swallow her alive. Red wasn't helping either, and Yellow could just tell that he was feeling nervous, having sat next to him when he fidgeted uncomfortably and have heard his almost inaudible cough.

"Grandpa . . . he's told me something terrible's gonna happen to the island — and everybody in it — when I'll leave," he said heavily, his eyes glowing icy-blue with what seemed to be a furious reminiscence. Yellow heard him gulp slowly, then continue, "He'd told me that when . . . when I was seven. . . I've got to admit, when I first got here, at 3, I thought everything'd be fine and life would be easy. . . But then he came up with —"

"The sex thing," said Bill — whom Yellow had almost forgotten — next to Green, whom she'd guessed had also been nodding and, even in the dim light, she could see him blushing. Green's eyes turned to look in which Yellow thought was Bill's direction, solemn. Though Yellow had to admit, she's felt her stomach lurch unpleasantly at how casual the people talk about _it_ around here.

"Yeah," said Green, though he seemed to give off a tone of dislike on the choice of word. "I just can't believe him."

"You said Bill's rescued his first girl a few weeks after he's arrived here, haven't you?" Red asked from Yellow's side, also eyeing Green cautiously. He saw Yellow at the corner of his right eye and winked in a friendly way — though Yellow's insides had squirmed almost enjoyably in her stomach, and she felt herself grow hot. It was just a friendly wink, that's all — it's not like it meant anything — even so, why was Yellow suddenly hyperventilating?

"Well — yeah, he did," said Green, biting his lip. "On my instructions. I've told him," he nodded at Bill, "as soon as I'd found out what Grandpa was gonna do, to save the first girl he sees during the 'Reproduction Cycle.' And that he should never leave this island unless I leave as well. But I can't leave, since Mirage Island's gonna be in a catastrophe once I do."

"Who's the girl you'd saved, Bill?" Yellow said interestedly, even before she realized she hadn't caught the words that slipped from her mouth. There was an unmistakable sound of someone clearing his throat, and Green's floating eyes drifted to Bill's direction again.

"That's right. You didn't even tell me," Green said, who seemed to open his mind a little. His voice carried a tone that was half-accusing someone. Red's eyes, at the corner of Yellow's eye, flickered.

"W-well," Bill began awkwardly, after a moment's hesitation on speaking, "I couldn't — you'd never — what?"

"You know what I mean," said Green — Yellow just had to follow her instincts to conclude that Green took a suspicious step forward, having heard the sound of a calm footstep. "Who's the girl — the girl you'd rescued when you were thirteen?"

"I-I did what you told me," said Bill anxiously — but Yellow can't help but notice, and so did Red, that he had a tone of reproachfulness in his voice. "You know, get her off the island."

"That's not what I'd asked," Green said loudly, and his eyes were now glowing dangerously icy-blue in the darkness, so bright that the light had even made Bill's frightened face be seen. Red hesitated next to Yellow — she knew this was going to get worse.

"Let this subject out of this," Red growled — and Yellow saw it — his eyes were now glowing faintly blood-scarlet in the room's darkness. "This isn't going to do us any progress."

"I know it's a stupid question," Yellow said, crossing her fingers in the hope that Green's anger would subside. Oh God — she was being so senseless. . . But she's never thought she'd see the day that Green would explode in anger and frustration, practically kicking chairs — whereas Red was trying to calm the bloke down, trying to crack some sense into him. . . She's always known Red to be really sentimental, and Green would always be unemotional and indifferent. But maybe she's somehow hit his nerve. . .

"Let's just tell Yellow the precise answer of her first question — then we'll make plans to get the hell outta here," said Red roughly. "Okay — team?"

Yellow didn't lunge her hand forward and followed Green's and Bill's disquiet in Red's action — that'd be awkward. . . She blinked several times, forcing her eyes to distract themselves away from Red's — whose eyes she'd known were on her — until she'll feel his hand fall limp beside his waist.

"Fine," said Green, though he didn't lunge his hand forward, unlike Red did (again,) thinking that they would do the thing every sports team does every time before a match. He sheepishly sunk down the bed, making himself comfortable in his seat.

Bill cleared his throat loudly and said, "You've asked us why we've stayed. Red's not concerned here —"

"Hey!" Red said indignantly.

"—that's because this happened before he even got here. Bill was one of the first to get to Mirage Island—only a few weeks after Grandpa and I did. He helped in building the school—he was my only companion, since I was mad at Grandpa at the time. . . I got even madder when he announced that there would be 'new rules' around here, and I think you know what I mean."

"How wouldn't we," muttered Yellow under her breath, the same indignance and prejudice boiling hotly in her stomach.

"Then, around that time, we had the 'Cycle' on, and Bill, being one of the only blokes that's arrived first, was involved."

"But he's underage!" Yellow said, nodding at the direction where Bill probably was, but to Green and Red, who can both see in the dark, only saw her nodding toward a lamp at the coffee table. "Doesn't he —"

"I don't think Professor gave a damn how old Bill was," said Red, looking at the floor mat. "So long as he could — you know —"

Since Yellow was beside Red, she felt his arm get warm, and she guessed he meant '_ejaculate_,' though he was too shy to say it — he fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, and it was only by pure instinct Yellow knew he was running his fingers through his hair nervously, and she spared him the shame of continuing — poor bloke, maybe he's never learnt to say it —

"I get the point!"

"I'll continue if you let me, please," said Green patiently. Yellow silenced at once, shuffling her fingers on her lap. "But I knew it was wrong. So I asked Bill if he could just save at least a girl he was assigned, and say she's barren or something —"

"I always say they'll escape," said Bill reasonably.

"— but, for his first time, he's been kind of obvious," Green interjected, ignoring Bill. "I recall him saying that the girl he's saved was safe in Lilycove now — meaning he stayed as I told him."

"So when do you plan to get out?" said Yellow, half-shouting — there was another bubbling substance that popped continuously in her stomach, and it was painful and stinging. Her tone had changed, and anger had suddenly overcome her — Green and Red turned their eyes to her, and she, half-embarrassed at her own behaviour, tried to keep her cool — the words escaped her mouth. . . She didn't think them. They were an accident —

"I. . ." said Green, advancing a step forward — then his expression completely lost it — his eyes flashed blue for a split of a second, then they lost their glow almost immediately — he was in an apparent loss for words, and he wasn't able to answer her question. For the first time in her life, Yellow's seen Green's cool-headed figure vanish instantly in front of her, even for a split-second. She sat there, stunned, biting her lip, waiting for the explosion that he always does in front of Red. He limply stood straight and said, "I don't know. . ."

"What?" Bill yelped on the chair, who also seemed to have flinched — there was a sound of a chair being rocked before, and it stopped at the point Green spoke. "I'm not saying to make you mad, but — you said we're to stay here to save the girls . . . and there was this other thing. . . You said that once you catch Celebi, _then_ we'll be able to bust out —"

"I know, I know," said Green impatiently. "There's just. . . Just something that makes me _have_ to stay. . . And it's annoying. . ."

"Actually, I kinda feel the same," Red piped up beside Yellow. She turned to stare at the direction he was — probably, by the direction of where his eyes were floating — and tried to make a puzzled expression out of her face. His eyes blinked — there was less than a split-second's darkness around Yellow — and his voice followed. "I mean, there's something like . . . a powerful sensation in the bottom of your stomach. It's like you never have get out of here, even if you want to."

Yellow turned to Green, wanting to know what he thinks of this — he only gave a sigh — it was most likely his, right? — And then what seemed to be his hand crossed his eyes and they seemed to be running the creases of his forehead. "I could feel it, too . . . but not until recently. . .

"Yellow," said Green, his eyes on her — she suddenly sat up straight, jolted awake, and flinching. "We're not gonna bust out of here — not unless we finish what we'd started — there was this other delay that stopped us from getting out of Mirage Island, but maybe if what we started will end, we could get out now. . ."

"No," she said, barely catching the words she was saying. "You mean — but — what'll Kyogre and Groudon do once they get here? Once Groudon wakes up now, I mean —"

"They'll fight," Bill said, his breathing slow — Yellow's heart pumped a thousand times faster than usual — she felt her brain go numb, and her skull was trying to pull her down the floor by making itself heavy — and something seemed to explode inside her as the realization was now revealed. "Fight till everything round them's destroyed. That's where Rayquaza comes."

"That's where I'm leading to," said Green coolly, and everyone fell quiet. "Yellow, weren't you from the Sky Pillar's Island?"

"Y-yes," Yellow stammered, her brain not functioning as well as it used to.

"Did you happen to meet someone while you were there? Like . . . an old hermit?"

"Old hermit — old man — what the — you mean Barty?" said Yellow, astonished. Why would Green mention Barty? She racked her brains as Red, Green and Bill — somehow she knew — stared at her. She recalled Green calling him Bartemius. He was Professor Oak's friend . . . researching. Then he found out about the orbs, or something. . . Then he told Professor Oak about it, and Green and his grandfather fled to this hellhole. . . "Isn't he — what — I've s-seen him. . ."

"God," breathed Red, his luminous eyes widening. His breath was so warm, Yellow could actually feel it through the air conditioning — something ran down her spine. "Green's mentioned him a few years ago — Green said that he's been trying to summon Rayquaza every day during their visit. . ."

"He doesn't think —" Yellow began, feeling slightly off, a bit sceptical, and a little afraid — she really doesn't know where this discussion was leading them. She was cut by Green, whose eyes were now determined.

"You haven't — you know — seen him . . . angry?" said Green slowly, raising his eyebrow, by the looks of it. Yellow knew that they could see in the dark, so she tried to make her face look as smart as possible — but judging by Green's sigh, she only pulled off a look that was both stupid and annoyingly puzzled. Suddenly, Yellow's head felt like a thousand pounds — she's forgotten he could penetrate her thoughts. . .

"Why would I need to see him angry?" she asked slowly. Green clicked his tongue, feeling vexed, and then looked away. Red sighed and said hoarsely, looking rather annoyed, "Because Green's had a hunch that maybe HE'S awakened Kyogre!"

Then he turned away, Yellow knew because his eyes disappeared behind him, and muttered, "_Women_. . ."

Yellow rolled her eyes and turned to look the direction opposite. "Men. . ."

But her mind was traveling elsewhere — it was going on its fastest speed, and her heart seemed to want to get out of its chambers again — her blood rushed through her veins and they were clogged when they reached her numb brain. It was like . . . her heart wanted to get out — get out of her body. . . And she couldn't stop it. . .

Barty was never actually very nice to her and Gold — her stomach did a somersault at the very thought of her cousin — and he was away at the day every day. . . Yellow could vividly recall Barty trying to summon Mirage Island at the peak of Sky Pillar — but _was_ it just Mirage Island he was attempting to summon? It could also have easily been just Mirage Island — yet he was also smart; he could have thought out that it'd be killing two birds with one stone, getting Rayquaza and stepping on Mirage Island at the same time.

And another thought crossed her mind like an icy knife.

"No. I don't remember him being angry," whispered Yellow, more to herself than to anyone in the dark room. She raised her head, her mind racing uncontrollably. "Barty. . . Though I've seen him trying to summon Mirage Island — he could have easily been trying to summon Rayquaza as well. . . And I had a thought. . ."

Slowly, Green's eyes faced her, and she didn't recoil this time. She felt Red move next to her, and his eyes on her.

"What if . . . he wanted something here? Something he's known for a long time that's been here. . ."

"That's an idea," said Bill's voice eerily. "There are some papers at Professor Oak's office that file some reports of something _breathing_ under the mantle of the island. . ."

"_Breathing_?" Red repeated, his floating crimson eyes bulged, though he sounded as though he was just as choked as Yellow was. "You're kidding. . . Only Wynauts are present in this island — other than the folks' pokémon enclosed in the balls and the pokémon used for the facility — even so, no other wild pokémon could possibly climb up here during the Cycle —"

Green shot him a nasty look that was supposed to stop him talking. Red just frowned like a child and half-heartedly shut his trap — indignance boiled inside Yellow unexpectedly. _God _—

"But Red's right," Yellow said, staring deep in Green's floating eyes. The words escaped her mouth once again, and the pain was surging through her madly — she felt her guts exploding, and she couldn't try to keep her cool. Not anymore. . . "It must've gotten up here before you and your grandpa climbed in —"

"Or," interrupted Bill, his voice rising with excitement — there was a sound of a chair being upended and Yellow deduced that Bill's already stood up. "Maybe that's the reason why Groudon's running late."

"What?"

Everyone stared at Bill — Yellow's heart had been pumping so fast, her lungs could barely keep up with it — this wasn't real — this wasn't real — Bill couldn't think that —

"Bill, I know where you're going with this," Green said urgently — but there was a warning tone in his voice that made Yellow think that he was pointing at Bill critically.

Bill gulped hugely.

"And it doesn't sound good. . ."

"You've got to be joking," said Red, whose tone of voice had suddenly changed. Yellow could feel Red trembling beside her, but his voice said otherwise, "Groudon's been _living_ under Mirage Island's earth all these years? And don't tell me Professor Oak knows about this!"

Yellow's entire system came to a halt — her body was frozen with fear and denial to accept the truth — Green gave a gulp.

"Bill," said Green, turning to face him, "I'm thinking what you're thinking."

"Yeah," said Bill, who seemed to have nodded.

Groudon's in Mirage Island. . . Kyogre's going to come after it. . . Groudon's still not awakened yet — there was something missing in all this.

Bill pulled open the curtains — there was a sudden outburst of light, the entire room was illuminated faster than Yellow could have not predicted — she would have closed her eyes, blinded by the light, had she not been thinking deeply about the ways and means. . . Everything in the room was light again, and she could see just as clear now.

"We've got to find Celebi _now_," said Bill seriously — he was still standing in front of the glass, sliding door with his fists clenched — Red almost hit Yellow with his arm when he managed to process what Bill had said.

"Wh — _now_?" he repeated, his eyes bulged. Green, looking more serious than ever, had heaved a loud sigh and made his way across Red, ignoring his remark and avoiding his eyes distractedly from him, his arms folded. Red was fidgeting in his seat next to a deeply-thinking Yellow.

Red turned to Yellow in his seat, pulling on an incredulous look on his face. "What's with that bloke?"

Yellow feebly shrugged, her mind a long way away. . . They knew something she didn't, and it was maddening—she couldn't control her emotions over this, and her undisciplined mind wasn't in her command. . . Groudon — the landlord — how did it get to Mirage Island in the first place? How did Bill know all this? Anger was surging through her, and she can't get herself to control it. . . Red could've told her, that git —

_You can't blame him, you know, he's got a skull thicker than the earth's core itself. _

Damn it.

"Bill," said Yellow, her voice shaky with rage — she's got to control it. . . She clenched and unclenched her fists so as to do something. "You said that you think Groudon's in Mirage Island. . . How'd it get here?"

Through her blurring vision, she thought she saw at the corner of her left eye Red slowly turning his head to look at her face, but she had things to worry about. . . Was it just her, or did she feel her eyes . . . burning? When Bill turned to face her, he squinted his eyes as though he thought he'd seen a ghost beside Yellow. Something inside her snapped, and reality flashed back in front of her mind's eye, and all her anger had been sapped away instantly. Her mind was swirling uncontrollably, and she could feel herself going back to focus. . .

"Yellow?" Red said, his brows furrowed — his face poked at the corner of Yellow's left eye, and she didn't dare look at him directly: what's gotten into her? Bloody hell. . . She's going mental. . . She kept her gaze on the floor and didn't move. "You're not sick, are you?"

"No," she said, making sure she was fine. Yellow tried to lift her head, but she couldn't — not until Red said, "You don't look too well. . ."

"I'm sorry," Yellow mumbled out, shaking. "I didn't know what got in —"

"You're acting really strange," he interjected, a look of seriousness in his expression — but there was also a slight note of understanding in his voice that made Yellow nervous. She instantly felt her knees wobbly again, and she sank deeper into the cushion of Bill's bed.

"I knew Groudon was here," Bill began, his eyes on the door — Yellow turned to where he was looking and her stomach dropped: Green was waiting in front of the door, eyeing them all with his emerald eyes watchfully, his hand already positioned to open the door with the knob. He gave a prompt nod and Yellow shifted her gaze to Bill again, knowing that it was Green's acceptance to give them some time to discuss this. "Because I was in Professor Oak's office then. I'd read his papers on the table — it wasn't much of a boring sheet at all. Instead, it was a _chart_. A chart showing a kind of scope that's used for the heartbeat of a living being. And that's not all, actually. . ."

"He's trying to see if Groudon's still _alive_?" Yellow cried, almost getting up her seat, but Red pulled her back down with the sleeve of her pink, Pikachu pyjamas.

"Yes. And it seems, according to the legend —"

"He told me all about it," Yellow interrupted, suddenly remembering. Professor Oak said he didn't believe. . . Was it all a lie?

"— there was a thief who's stolen the Jewels. And this was before Mirage Island existed," Bill continued. "And that thief, wanting both Kyogre and Groudon for himself, tried to escape in a small island, far from prying eyes, to summon the two legends before the guardians of the Jewels get to him.

"There was just this thing," Bill went on, his breathing fast now, and there was a clear look of horror across his face. "Celebi, the time-traveling pokémon, was there when it all happened. . ."

"Groudon and Kyogre arrived?" Yellow yelled, astonished. "Where's Rayquaza?"

"I'm getting there. The three arrived at the same time — Kyogre from the sea, Rayquaza from the skies, and Groudon from the land it conjured with his magma to cross the ocean just to get to its master — the thief. Rayquaza was simply there to calm the two down. But Celebi — Celebi witness everything.

"When the two legends arrived, the thief was both frightened and reluctant to continue what he'd begun — he didn't know what the monsters were like."

"They're not monsters," said Yellow severely, her voice shaky again.

Bill stared at her.

"All right — they're monsters when they see their counterparts, okay? But seriously. . ." Bill cleared his throat and went on. "He made a run for it — but he was too late. He was too late to run away from the huge battle the two were starting. He was _killed_. Rayquaza managed to calm the two legends down — Kyogre went back to the seas and Rayquaza to the stratosphere — atmosphere — whatever. But. . ."

"What happened to Groudon?" asked Yellow.

"Yeah, I was leading there — Groudon, whose had been destroyed during the battle, dug his way into the island instead — and that's when Celebi tried to warp back into time — but it wasn't easy: storms and sunlight were arguing, and the space wasn't stable anymore —"

"So when Celebi warped into time," Yellow began, standing up, "the island came with it. . . And because of the unstable climate, the island is appearing and reappearing every now and then. . ."

"And thus Mirage Island," finished Red with a sigh.

"B-b-but what happened to the Jewels?" said Yellow, disbelieving the tale. "Where did they go? The thief died, didn't he? And that's why Groudon's _here_?"

"The Jewels were at the bottom of the ocean," said Green patiently, who still didn't retreat from the door. "And, somehow, Grandpa managed to retrieve them before we made our second trip to Barty's — my first trip, his second — then we went off to Mirage Island.

"The thief died, and that's what he deserved. And that's why Groudon's here," Green finished indifferently, turning the doorknob. Yellow panicked at once.

"You won't tell the people here, will you?"

There was silence. Yellow almost regretted she'd asked. Red tugged the sleeve of her pyjamas again and she sobered up.

"No," said Green, after he clicked his tongue.

Red noticed Yellow opening her mouth so he acted quickly. "They won't believe us either way, anyway — and there's nothing we could do about it."

"Won't Groudon be awakened?" said Yellow, depressed.

"No, not unless _I_ wake him," said Red firmly. "Barty must've awakened Kyogre — I don't know how he did it without the possession of the Blue Jewel — but there won't be a fight unless Groudon's to wake up."

"All we've to do now is to get Celebi, and stop Kyogre from getting here," Green said, opening the door now. And, not looking behind him, he added, almost grudgingly, "Red could stay and guard Yellow whereas Bill'd go and help me find Celebi."

"_What?_"

But before Yellow or Red could say anything — Yellow stood up, wanting to protest — her heart beating a million miles away and wanting to rip Green to pieces — Red, however, dense as ever, just sat there — what the hell was he doing? — Bill unexpectedly raced hastily — faster than Yellow ever thought he would — to the door, hitting it straight in the face before Green opened it to let the both of them out.

After the door slammed shut, it echoed inside the room, and a ringing silence followed — the most awkward silence since a while now, and Yellow had never felt the urge to run to the door and kill Green for this. So she just stood there, frozen in her tracks, releasing heat by blushing, even though inside, she still felt an empty cold emotion that was really, really atrocious.

Suddenly, she felt a whip of wind beside her, and Red clapped his hands together in a jolly way.

"Well, no use sitting and staying," he said gleefully. Yellow just was not in the mood to talk to him right now. "I guess we'll just have fun the rest of the day, will we?"

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: **_**Wow, it's been a while since I've written a 'Second Note,' hasn't it? Thanks for giving your time to read this, and it's answered a fair few questions for you. As you can see, Red OBVIOUSLY notices something about Yellow . . . but what? XD**_

**GOLD: **_**Sssooo much cliff-hangers. . . You know what? This'd be one of the only chapters in the story that doesn't end in a cliff-hanger. **_

**ME: **_**True, true. But in the next chapter, it's gonna be split into half! The first half is about how Gold's keeping up, and the second is about — wait for it — SPECIALSHIPPING! WHOOOOOOOOOOO! Oh, and PS; what scene of Celebi do you want to read? Is it about what Green wants Bill to do? Well, question answered in this chapter! But remember on the 3**__**rd**__** chapter guys. . . There's something there that you're missing. And it plays a BIG part in this story. Tell me just what scene you guys want! Anything! Thanks, and happy Christmas and a good New Year! It's 2012 next year — which will be in a few days' time — and by September 9, I'll be 14! I hate growing old, but I'm never growing up!**_

**GOLD: (HOLDS UP MY WALLET) **_**Who the hell is Asa Butterfield? **_

**ME: **_**Shut up and give me back my wallet! **_


	29. Kyogre

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: _I'M REALLY SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE! I'm in a hurry right now, so I'm sososososo sorry! A familiar person (to you, not here) makes an appearance, and Specialshipping is on the way! Just promise me you won't skip to the end of the chapter! I want it as a surprise! _**

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

**_EVERYONE: THANKS FOR REVIEWING! HAVE A CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE!_**

**28****th**** CHAPTER: KYOGRE**

**LOG FIFTEEN**

**SAME TIME; SAME PLACE — MIRAGE ISLAND — FAST**

**SAME TIME; SAME PLACE — SKY PILLAR ISLAND**

"**A**ll those scenes — they happened in Mirage Island. . . But there's still a question I want answered — what is Bill's purpose in Mirage Island that made him stay? What did Green want him to do?"

Gold frowned at Celebi, his teeth gritted — he wasn't angry or anything, but he felt an odd surge of emotion that sparked inside him immediately — he clenched and unclenched his fists, the unwelcoming wind blowing against his hair — Uncle Wilton's grunts stayed unheard. Gold stamped his foot on the muddy ground as Celebi's deep eyes remained boring on Gold's (he didn't choose to use his injured one, though.)

"You're pulling my leg!" Gold roared. He just wanted some answers. . . Just wanted to save his cousin. Why couldn't Celebi do just that? Some legend this was. Celebi looked as though it was thinking something over — Gold's anger seemed to be ebbing away slightly, but he scowled as though nothing had been different. He'll try one more time: he calmed himself down and pleaded. "Come on! Just a few more visions! I want to know. . . I want —" he panted — "— to save —" Gold never thought he'd say this — "my cousin badly."

Celebi blinked.

"Is it too much to ask?" he said, his voice cracking. Gold collapsed on the muddy ground, Celebi slipping above his eyeballs, and all he saw now was the trees behind it — wait. He could see now? He squinted his eyes to make a better vision — then they bulged as a realization hit in front of Gold. It was already turning dawn — and they'd taken a whole night trying to get away from Barty, he's forgotten. . .

But then, and only then, before Gold could even utter a single word, everything was _moving_ again — he closed his eyes automatically, feeling it burning with pain. The colour was in deep hue, and everything was twisting their shape, changing. . . They're entering another space of time — that only meant Celebi listened to Gold's plea — not that he _was_ pleading — and they're in another scene from Celebi's travels in time. . .

The ground — the ground Gold kneeled not long ago — lost its muddy texture, and Gold felt himself slipping from somewhere — he was in a different space, wasn't he, like last time — he didn't dare open his eyes. . . He knew what was going on already, and didn't need to see it again: everything seemed to shift form every second, and it's like it didn't want to stay in the same shape for long. . . Like the world was distorted.

"Ah!"

Gold, eyes still closed, hurriedly stood up, absentmindedly wheeling round: that was his Uncle's voice. He felt his footsteps echo — was the shifting done? He opened one eye slowly, half-expecting he'd go blind—but what he saw made him throw himself backward and open both his eyes: he gave a loud shout, and half a wince, as his ankle stung with pain again when he took a step backward.

"My God," Gold said under his breath — he'd never felt several emotions at the same time before — fear was mixed with excitement — and he thought he'd die — it all seemed so real — everything around him was surrounded by a dull, grey colour, and only the background in front seemed to have been constructed first, having the most colours and the most sharpened of the once-empty space — in front of Uncle Wilton, who was next to a tree which was obviously untouchable, who was standing with a horrified expression, his mouth agape, was an incompletely conceived version in Celebi's imagination of a huge, red pokémon that had its mouth open, ready to attack.

Horror-struck Gold as the food colouring-like substance touched the ground and finished reincarnating the gigantic red monster — it was then that the creature was seen with complete body movements — the very ground shook as it managed to lift one foot to touch the land — Uncle Wilton, who was right in front of its toe's claw, turned pale and didn't move. Gold wanted to get his uncle out of there, but a piece of his brain challenged him that he should run; he was really out of options, so his mind was against his heart, and it was a pretty heated contest. But while his brain was busy debating who won, his physical composition was waiting for a signal to do something.

The red monster roared — its eyes were dangerously yellow — and its mouth was so huge, it looked like a thousand trees could fit in — Gold decided as fast as possible that he'll cover his ears before he got deaf: the noise was excruciating him, and he was dying, sinking into the blackness. He kneeled on the ground, seething with pain — his eardrums were exploding, and he can't do a thing about it.

Gold, through gritted teeth, opened one eye forcibly: he was right — this was the same island Bill and Daisy were at, he concluded, his eye starting to flood with tears. It was lush and green — everywhere around was shaking, but he can still make clear that this was the same luscious place they once were — the atmosphere was pretty different, Gold could make out . . . but why?

The ground stopped shaking — there was a ringing silence — Gold's eardrums were still throbbing — Gold made sure that the huge pokémon was looking somewhere else before he made himself to get up, staggering limply to his Uncle.

Uncle Wilton, horror-struck still, was gasping for breath, and had leaned on a tree — but, as it was just a conjured, reincarnated one, he just went through it and landed on the ground, his waist and shoulder still inside the tree as if a ghost — he coughed, the dirt entering his nose, and managed to get himself up when Gold ran over. Had this monster gone away, he would have laughed himself a fit.

"Uncle! What the hell was that?" Gold managed to cough out as he helped Uncle Wilton get to his feet — he watched, his eyebrows furrowed, creases forming across his forehead, as the huge pokémon shake its entire body: Gold shuddered.

"I think — thanks — I think. . ." Uncle Wilton stood up, looking at the monster in such a solemnly angry way Gold was sure he was almost mad with the creature. He wiped some dirt off his cheek with his sleeve and coughed out, "I think that was Groudon. . ."

"Groudon," breathed Gold — he knew it. . . So if Groudon was here, Gold thought savagely, where was Kyogre?

He turned to the direction where Groudon was headed, gulping —

Then he saw it —

He froze in his tracks, horror clearly across his face —

"Ch. . . ch. . . ch. . ." Uncle Wilton stuttered, his eyes widening. Gold wanted to react, but he wasn't doing anything —

"TSUNAMI!"

Gold stood there, shocked and scared — no, it was just shock, right? Gold's never scared—his entire brain gone numb—he was too 'shocked' to do anything — Uncle Wilton made a movement, clutching Gold's shoulder very tightly, and Gold knew at once he was trembling — that must be the reason why he's shaking too — he held his breath, closed his eyes, annoyingly wishing Yellow didn't steal his stupid goggles, and bit his lip — this must be the end — and if it was, then he'd really appreciate if it wasn't in the middle of nowhere where illusions were just reincarnated by Celebi —

Groudon must have created the huge wave — it must be him, Gold thought, his breath still being held. Then he realized that the Tsunami was getting quite late, so he held his breath one more time, embracing his death for what it was. He got tired of waiting, actually, and opened his eyes slowly, half-expecting that the entire world has gone in slow motion and he and his uncle could still make a run for it —

Damn.

He was so _stupid_. Gold looked around, amazed and feeling stupid at the same time — Uncle Wilton peeving him with his embrace — the tsunami absolutely_ had no effect on them _— weird as it was, but not exacerbating just the same, the huge mass of water just flowed — and they were just standing on the same spot, completely unaffected, unlike the trees and rocks around them — they could still breathe, Gold was sure of that, and they were still dry. Gold tapped Uncle Wilton finally, after he found his motion, and Uncle Wilton gave a shudder.

Gold rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, grow up. We're safe."

"Wha — God. . ." Uncle Wilton broke their embrace and wheeled around, seeing the disaster happen around them — but Gold's gotta admit, it was kinda creepy that they were inside the tsunami, where they could breathe, move about freely, and not get wet; the trees were being uprooted by the tsunami, and he looked upwards to see if the water level was decreasing.

He gasped, taking a few steps backward and bumping against his uncle in the process ("Ack!") but he could care less, because another creature, just as huge as the red one earlier, swam above them — its fins were gigantic: they seemed to be, if put together, longer than its body — it was majestic — graceful, even by sight — if it could flap its fins, Gold guessed it would cause the water to vibrate creating massive waves —

"This must be the reason why this tsunami even formed," breathed Uncle Wilton, finding his voice at last. Gold wordlessly agreed with his uncle, seeing as they were of one mind. It flew above them magnificently — the water level indeed decreased, and the sky was now dark with clouds.

"Hey!" Gold exclaimed, his shoes making squirting noises as he moved from his position — the water level may have decreased, but the average rose about 20% seeing as not all the water from the tsunami made it back into the ocean: the water was now above his ankle, and the salty tang was stinging his wound. He grunted, wheeling around the area; everything was soaked wet — the trees, which once stood tall, had now been snapped in two, and were scattered everywhere: everything was such a destruction. . .

"It's gonna rain!" Uncle Wilton cried loudly, then he turned to the only place he could find — the only half-a-tree left standing — and made a run for it, but Gold caught him before he even had the chance to.

"No way! Remember last time? We got dry as soon as the illusion's finished," said Gold, still untroubled. Uncle Wilton reached for his earlobe and pinched it: he winced.

"You sucker," said Uncle Wilton loudly as Gold massaged his left earlobe.

"What was that for?" he demanded loudly, thinking by himself he should stamp his foot, but then remembered he had a bad ankle.

"We'll still get wet!" Uncle Wilton bellowed back. Gold felt something explode in his head.

"Well, _sorry_, but —"

"WATCH OUT!"

Gold glanced behind him, but before he could get a glimpse of the bright light, he was knocked to the ground by his Uncle ("DUCK!").

"Ow, what —" Gold managed to cough out angrily, but then he saw, right before his eyes, when he attempted to sit up straight using his elbows, a huge beam of energy flow from somewhere beyond what his eyes could see and it landed on the ground just where he and Uncle Wilton had been — huge chunks of ground exploded from where the beam had hit and Gold had to cover himself with one of his arms flailing to not get himself hurt, half-forgetting that the pieces of land had just went through him as though he were a ghost.

Uncle Wilton stirred beside him, buried in dirt.

Then he spit a few sands off his mouth and said, "Thith mutht be da time da tip thtole da Jubows amb he lambeb om Miwave Island!"

"Sorry, what?" Gold said, tranquil. And he thought _he_ was horrendous. . . His uncle spat out dirt again and wiped his tongue with his hankie, which left Gold to conclude where he'd gotten those habits.

"I said, this must be the time the thief stole the Jewels and he landed on Mirage Island!" Uncle Wilton explained, looking as though he'd swallowed some sand in the process. Gold suddenly felt his blood run faster in his veins — he ignored the explosions of beams and water behind them, composed despite that the attacks nearly hit them by an inch, chunks of ground erupting and going through them intangibly —

"You're kidding — so we're in Mirage —?"

"I thought you already knew?"

Uncle Wilton stared at Gold much longer than Gold expected; Gold forgot what to say to him. He just blinked repeatedly and tried to recall what he was supposed to tell him, several rocks going through them with explosive sounds with them not caring any less.

"R-right!" said Gold lamely, trying to cover up his obvious mistake. His uncle raised a sceptical brow — _Gold, you gotta do better than this. Uncle Wilton expects more from you, you know. _"B-but I was — you know — just — just wondering why Celebi'd show us this — whatever you call it. . ."

"Look," Uncle Wilton breathed, nodding upward — he looked up the sky, a serious look on his face. Gold wondered what could make him so stern — and was thankful at the same time he didn't have to continue his lame alibi — and he, too, curiously shifted his gaze to whatever Uncle Wilton was looking. His heart missed a beat; eyes widened, he squinted them to get a better look of the slim, snakelike creature flying above them, its long tail whipping in the wind — it looked like it was gliding downward: Gold had the chance to get a better view of things when he stood up straight, dreading what it could be, what the creature gliding for Groudon could be. . .

"Oh crap. . ."

Kyogre — Gold would recognize Rayquaza or Groudon's cries — let out a noise not dissimilar with that of a Wailord's, but shriller and louder, and then Gold took one step backward: rain was starting to fall, and Groudon, who was just in front of Gold and Uncle Wilton, didn't like it one bit. Gold covered his ears, waiting for its indistinctive, dinosaur-like roar — Groudon thundered at the top of its voice, its reverberation echoing in the surroundings: it was so destructive, Gold was practically shaking, and it seemed as though his eardrums have exploded.

Groudon splashed its huge feet in the watery ground, making the entire of the desolate Mirage Island — where no people were except for Gold and Uncle Wilton and most probably the thief — shake: the water from the tsunami had splashed around endlessly, and Gold's ankle had never felt so sore.

"Damn it!" Gold cursed aloud, his teeth gritted. Then, unexpectedly, the rain stopped — there was no heat that Gold and Uncle Wilton experienced earlier, and nor was there the wet, soggy presence of the rain that soaked them both.

Rayquaza, whipping its long, majestic tail, had let out an ear-piercing roar that, had Gold and Uncle Wilton been up there about only 50 feet, they'd be deaf: Groudon and Kyogre eerily stopped what they were doing. Gold couldn't believe his eyes what happened next, after calculating the series of events — a blinding, shining flash engulfed the entire island, and it even beat the sunlight that day —

Gold covered his eyes with his hands, and he felt his uncle, too, grunt in the sudden whiteness — he heard three different screeches of pain at once: all of which he was sure were Rayquaza's, Groudon's and Kyogre's. Only when the light was growing to be slightly dim that Gold permitted himself to look around him —

"Holy crap. . ."

"Gold!" shouted Uncle Wilton, trembling wildly beside him — he was shaking his nephew by the shoulders like a madman and was frantically looking at the object inside the light above that was blinding the three titans. "That's Celebi!"

Gold did nothing but nod in agreement as he marvelled over to tremendous power he didn't know Celebi had — so Celebi — the flash they saw earlier that made Uncle Wilton and him land on the forest — it was still Celebi. . . It was powerful enough to even light an area so brightly even at the time of the day. He gaped at the light, watching the three titans seethe in agony of the sudden whiteness.

But . . . Gold . . . had to admit . . . it was strangely getting a bit colder in here. Even in the warm light, the wind was blowing unnaturally stronger, and even in the presence of Rayquaza, he couldn't even control how the weather works, not anymore, at least. There was a chill that ran down Gold's spine that was unnerving, and he had a sudden, cold feeling that haunted him for a while now. He tried to turn his attention away from the four pokémon and tried to look at the water from the flood earlier that reached his ankles.

Water.

Water.

Water can be the quietest drop landing on the ground, calm and collected, harmless. . . But can also be the raging ocean in a storm, intense and dangerous, deadly. . .

The water was slightly moving, but the ground wasn't.

The air was now a mixture of cold and warm pressures, Gold concluded, trembling. The water reflected the four pokémon above — and not only that, but the clouds. . .

They're not clouds. . . Oh crap.

"Damn! It's fogging up!" Gold exclaimed, his feet getting up excitedly and the water making splashing noises. Uncle Wilton took him by the shoulder and wordlessly pointed in the direction of Rayquaza, who, for some reason, had had enough of the light, and decided to retreat: it whipped its majestic tail and flew from the foggy mist, roaring in defeat.

Kyogre, whose roar was now familiar to Gold, had scoffed — or how it sounded like — and Gold, hearing the sounds of water splashing — loudly — and could only guess that Kyogre's made his runaway, too.

"Hang on a second!" Gold whispered, remembering something as Celebi, who was now absorbing the light until it's gone, fled from the sight of Groudon. "Remember what Barty said? After the battle, Groudon's got no land to dig in . . . except for the land in Mirage Island! Then he got warped back in time —"

"So that must mean," Uncle Wilton said, his eyes widening. "The fog —"

"— and Celebi!"

Together, they turned around slowly and hoped that what they dreaded wasn't true — Gold's heart skipped a beat when he found out what was happening to the water — he gasped and fell to the ground, the water splashing: the winds were whipping the water from the ocean at the shore — the trees had covered the entire view, but he could see just the same — the skies were suddenly fogged so much that Gold couldn't see anything —

The water of the shore was splashing against the large rocks and it was then Gold realized — he looked once more at the sky, squinting his eyes: there was mist everywhere, and it was already so thick, Groudon's head was blocked from view down below. Right now, Gold thought miserably, only Groudon would know what was happening above the fog. Groudon lifted his foot from the ground — it shook, and Gold had to cling to Uncle Wilton to not get stumbled in his position lying on his back — and let out a puzzled roar.

"Oh damn it!" Gold cried, trying to get up — he felt his jacket — his _favourite _one — get wet, and he had to get up just so he could get back his balance. Stupid, stupid — he's got to go find out what's happening — fast.

"Uncle!" said Gold — the idea was brilliant, he's forgotten. . . He'll just fly up there. Uncle Wilton, hair so wet that he had to take his beanie off so that he could dry it up by squeezing it, looked at him blankly; he was staring at Groudon's feet so much, he's not taken notice of anything else. "I've gotta see whatever the hell's happening up there! It'll lead us how —"

"NO! Gold, you're just looking for trouble! And a death wish," Uncle Wilton added thoughtfully. Gold made a distinct noise that was cross between someone clicking his tongue and a snarl. Uncle Wilton was being so uncooperative right now. "You don't know what's gonna happen!"

"That's why we should _find out_!" Gold retorted loudly, raising his voice so to make sure the last two syllables were heard. Uncle Wilton cleaned his ears after his lips were pressing against each other quietly like a fish's before he made another reply. Unbeknownst to the both of them, the entire space was being burst into the food colouring-like substance once more, and everything was the once the same, dull grey colour as earlier with the black substance going about from above and scattering in the empty space as though the empty area were water.

"You already _know _what's happening!" Uncle Wilton shouted back, pulling on his beanie again — it was pulled down so low, he couldn't see, so he adjusted it. Gold opened his mouth to retort once more, but his uncle cut across him. "Mirage Island's starting to get BANISHED from the very fabric of space! Yeah, truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"No. . ."

"Don't give me that idiotic look of yours. I already know —"

"No, dearest _Uncle_, we're in Barty's hut!" Gold exclaimed loudly, looking around their surroundings, wild. Strangely, when Gold managed to turn round a full circle and get back where he started, the scene that Celebi reincarnated was finished, and the last bit of detail turned to a wisp that twirled and disappeared in thin air, just in the middle of the both of them: they exchanged troubled looks and used the last bit of their time in looking around the living room.

"God damn this old man," Uncle Wilton breathed, examining the entire room around the both of them as their clothes began to dry themselves up automatically. "He doesn't seem to have cleaned his hut since he got them. . ."

Gold couldn't blame Uncle Wilton for staring, though — everything was so new. He's never looked at Barty's living room like this before: awed, Gold gulped and made himself to stand up to get a better view.

Actually, the room was pretty nice: the floor was still shiny — so glossy, Gold observed, that he could see his own reflection on the floor — and there was a small source of light above the room in the form of a small chandelier glowing so bright, it looked like it could illuminate the entire hut; the shelves were newly-varnished, and there weren't any dark cobwebs or any dust that covered anything, not like the living room in Barty's hut in the present. . . Even as Gold moved his feet, his shoes made an echoing sound that reverberated in the entire hut.

Gold had already seen the hall, and, amazingly — Gold had to even admit it, as much as he _detested_ the old man — through the no-door threshold, the hall was so clean, so organized, he's seen the reflection of the shadows on the shiny floor. Excited, Gold tried to look at what the hut looked like more when he stepped out of the doorsill, he was at the hall and looking round some stuff: but two figures stepped into the hut so unexpectedly, Gold didn't have enough time to look around.

He was going to get out of sight when he remembered he can't be seen. He squinted his eyes when the little of the silhouette he could see of the two men due to the lighting moved along the hall, what seemed to be their hands around each other's shoulders. They were talking animatedly to each other, and only when they got through Gold intangibly, Gold recognized that they were — his stomach gave an unpleasant lurch when the realization struck him — Barty and — even though he's only seen him in television — Professor Samuel Oak, the both of them younger than they look right now.

"Hey Gold, who — oh bloody hell," said Uncle Wilton, sliding from the floor. Gold didn't do anything but nod and whistle as Barty and Professor Oak walked through him as they entered the room.

"Ostentatious," said Gold, pulling on a relaxed look and shrugging — he can't help but smirk, though. He raised his eyebrows as Barty sat on the chair that stood out in the living room; it looked as though it was newest, and Gold could tell. The table, though, Gold took notice of and purposely made sure he observed that one last, was no mystery to Gold nor was it a strange object. It was still in the living room, though ignored and worn: but once he saw it right now, he could hardly tell what it is.

Professor Oak was unusually wearing his lab coat over his purple buttoned shirt and looked normal — come to think of it, there was a report years back that Professor Oak disappeared mysteriously during his trip to Hoenn. . . Could Barty be related to this? Gold bit his lower lip and began to observe their small movements and mediocre gestures. His khaki pair of pants looked as though he'd promised to wear it during this trip, and even had to wear a belt just to keep it from dropping down at any moment. His hair was greying, though it was still blacker than it was when Gold saw it in the Infirmary in Mirage Island. By comparison.

". . . and then, Groudon burrowed into the ground of Mirage Island during Mirage Island's appearance — and that's how it got there," Barty groaned, shaking his head. It was rather odd for Gold to actually see Barty look taller than he is now: his beard seemed a bit shorter — by about 2 feet — and his skin wasn't as pale yet. He kicked the chair beside the table forward and Professor Oak stared at it as it stopped moving in front of him. He seemed to be deciding whether or not to sit down. Finally, after a pause, he did, sighing.

Gold and Uncle Wilton exchanged surprised looks: Gold shrugged and watched.

"I wish I'd been as lucky as you to have researched all this in my life," said Professor Oak, closing his eyes and heaving another sigh. Barty, with an air of a very drunk person, snarled and, in a throaty, if boastful, voice, he said, "Took me long enough. Though you might've wished you didn't wish that."

"What do you mean?" Professor Oak grunted, drowsy. Barty nodded at the threshold lazily — Gold and Uncle Wilton looked at each other, puzzled, then, before either of them could say anything, they heard footsteps grow more audible by the second and they glanced at the threshold, looking at it just in time to see two children walk in the living room. They both had identical emerald-green eyes and brown hair: the smaller of the two had been a boy, and he was grumpily stomping his way.

Gold's stomach did a backflip as he realized who the older child was. It was _Daisy_. So the younger sibling must be —

"Green! Daisy!" Professor Oak said, mildly surprised. He brought them to his embrace and Barty — Gold didn't even believe it — looked the other way in contempt, but what Gold suspected was jealousy. "What are you two doing awake?"

"Daisy stole all my candy," said the younger Green gruffly, biting his lower lip and not daring to look at his grandfather straight in the eye. Daisy's eyes widened in surprise and she managed to think of a retort in time before Professor Oak gave her a typical 'mad parent' look.

"No I didn't! They were mine, and he ate all his!" she said, glaring at her younger brother. Green unexpectedly glared back — Gold had to admit, he was surprised to see a kid actually _glare_ when confronted with, since most will cry.

"Get back to your room, kids, it's not the right time for you two to be still awake — and Daisy, give your brother just a bit. Your parents wouldn't like it if I return the both of you still fighting," Professor Oak said firmly, gesturing the both of them to the room across the hall. Green gritted his teeth as his older sister rolled her eyes, trudging to the room opposite.

"But it's true. . ."

"True or not, you started all this," Professor Oak said. Green forcefully wheeled around and stomped his foot on the wooden floor.

"No I didn't! Daisy did!" Green bawled — Gold couldn't see his modern self right now. The tranquil seven-year-old he's seen in the last scene was not showing himself now.

"Why is it my fault — why is _everything_ my fault?" Daisy demanded loudly, using the same British accent she always did. Was everyone different when they were younger?

"Go back to your room!" Professor Oak said, raising his voice. Daisy sighed and was ahead when Green turned, muttering, "You never believe me. . ."

Professor Oak gave a loud sigh and sat backward straight in his seat, rubbing the creases on his forehead, frustrated. Barty scowled.

"You've got a family. I don't, because I wasted all my time discovering about these," Barty whispered, staring at the floor. Professor Oak looked through his fingers and tried to force a smile.

"Yes. . ."

Barty stood up unpredictably, and he was already only a few inches shorter than Gold — Uncle Wilton raised an eyebrow — and glared at Professor Oak, who just sat there, blinking.

"You don't know what you have until it's gone, Oak," Barty hissed. Then he threw Professor Oak a hand-written book, and Gold recognized it immediately: Uncle Wilton flinched: it was the manuscript. Professor Oak just looked at it feebly and raised his thick eyebrows. "Read that, and it's got all you need to know."

And with that, Barty stormed out of the room. . . Gold and Uncle Wilton were so fixed with the new manuscript, they didn't take much notice of Barty leaving. Everything around them burst into the thick, black smoke with no odour and the background was changing right in front of their eyes: they're at the forest again.

It was dark, and the only light was the one Celebi, who was in front of Gold, was emitting. . . The waves were crashing at the shore, and Gold heard thunder. He was breathing heavily, and then he finally lifted his head from his gaze at the ground, sweating.

"What was that about?" Gold said, shaking his head at the pokémon. Celebi just looked at him. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what the scenes were all about: what was so significant in all them. . . They must have had some kind of connection, right? Then he remembered: Barty looked over at the Oak family almost jealously. . . They still didn't know the reason why Barty still wanted for Groudon. . . He said something about power. . . But was power all he aimed for? Will he definitely die an old lonely man? Will he want to die for power alone?

"Gold," said Uncle Wilton, panic in his voice. Gold looked at him. "What?"

He was a few feet away, hiding behind a coconut tree and some bushes that lead out of the forest and to the shore, Gold suspected. Uncle Wilton seemed to be watching the waves. He turned around and a worried look crossed his face.

"Kyogre's here."

* * *

><p>"You could wear one of Bill's old clothes," said Red thoughtfully, opening the door that leads him and Yellow out of the room and into Bill's office. Yellow scowled as she tried to make something out of her stupid pyjamas and Red's hat. She'll not look like a girl — nor a boy — but some kind of <em>psychopath<em> that walks out of a professor's office wearing pink pyjamas and her friend's hat. He was right — Red was right: he'd made a point.

"Yeah, but will they fit?" said Yellow. She was running out of options, anyway. She sat on Bill's grey bed and looked at Red, throwing his hat to him. He caught it, smiling. Red turned his cap around with his fingers and was absentmindedly making Yellow like him.

"He's got a few things he hasn't worn since he was thirteen," he said, making up his mind. He closed the door and leaned against it, looking at Yellow's face fondly. Yellow rolled her eyes.

"I highly doubt that," she said, smiling as well. Bill was one of the most best-suited blokes in the world. Yeah, right. "Bill's not stupid enough to do exactly that."

"_I_ do that," said Red, uncharacteristically raising his voice. Just then, Yellow's eyes widened and stupidity swelled inside her.

"Oh God, I've been stupid — I didn't mean that —"

"Of course you don't — you were right about being stupid though," Red added as an afterthought. Yellow stared at him, blinking. He smirked. "You shouldn't have left the dorm without having something to wear —"

"This cap thing was your idea," Yellow snapped. He couldn't forget, could he? But, judging by the number of times he had, he _could_, let alone he _should_ to stay alive, Yellow having counted the number of times and judging how often he does forget some things. She couldn't help but smirk at the thought.

"Hey, at least I did something. And aren't we supposed to be finding you something?" Red said, changing the subject clear in his mind. Yellow sighed.

"Right," she said. But she wouldn't get up, weirdly enough. Maybe it was her newly-found laziness. . . "Okay. I don't know where Bill keeps his clothes. _You_ get them."

"Me?" said Red in mock disbelief (if she weren't proud that Red could actually pretend to be surprised, which was smart for him, she wouldn't have forced herself not to roll her eyes.) He laughed at the door, and then strode over the room, passing her. "You're kidding — nope, I could see you're not," he added, seeing the look on Yellow's face. "Oh well."

He dropped the act and crossed her again, the ghost of a smirk playing his lips as he did. He stopped walking when he was right in front of a closet that reached the ceiling, his expression firm and calm. He opened the doors with the wooden handles and kneeled on his knees on the matted floor, sighing.

"Okay — throw that aside," Red said, bored. And then a dapper, stripping shirt flew out of the closet, followed by a nice pair of khaki pants. As Red dug deeper inside the closet, he tried to throw away some of the nicest-looking clothes Yellow's seen. Too bad they're for men, though. This was one of the only times Yellow has seen Red actually think of a sense of fashion — even if it's 'another' kind of sense — and had carelessly concluded that Red was being sensible, and was in too much of a hurry to even care at what he's been throwing away.

Yellow was just scared that what Red will choose will result to her being uncomfortable again. . .

. . .

She is going to murder Red for this. Yellow stood in front of Bill's mirror in the bathroom, trying to see if what Red picked out was all right — she wouldn't know, of course, since she herself didn't possess the kind of sense others have. But she was quite sure, Yellow thought dreadfully, looking at herself in front of the mirror as she tugged some blond streaks of hair inside Bill's old grey hat — was everything he owned grey? — that Red's 'sense' was hardly enough something compared to Ruby's.

"I look like a school boy," she muttered under her breath, talking to no one but herself. True, Bill had been awkward for some things, being some kind of cool geek, but this was taking it too far — no wonder he doesn't wear this thing anymore. . . And Yellow could see no reason why Red would want her to wear something that strongly reminded her of Huckleberry Finn or something. . .

"What? That's what everyone looks like in TV!" Red's voice echoed from the table. Yellow flinched — he didn't get this style from the _television_, did he? She looked away from the mirror, her eyes wide with terror, and tried to pull a serious look on her face, but Red had already walked over before she realized and grabbed her by the shoulders casually. "I don't know what it is with you girls — why does looking good have to be some kind of priority? I mean, I wear jeans and shirts every day!"

Tsk, he was trying to cheer her up. Something acid boiled inside Yellow's stomach: If Red was trying to make her smile, why shouldn't she? Though she didn't want to be hypocrite, either. . . She attempted to look at Red straight in the eye, but she ended up only looking like a child losing in a long-lost debate over a toy through the necktie and the suspenders. Do girls even receive wedgies? That should be something illegal. Yellow looked through Red's stupid grin and felt herself sink into his eyes once again.

Feeling very warm — hell, she was wearing a vest over a buttoned shirt — she tried to look a little threatening if she wanted the stupid bloke to listen.

"Look, Red," she said, after breathing slowly. Her voice was so constricted through the button around her neckline: she clicked her tongue annoyingly and unbuttoned it. "I know you're just trying to help me, but why don't you just give me something modern to wear?"

It's official: Red may be cool, but he was _very_ out of touch with what everyone his age wear these days. Or maybe he just follows the weird fashion in Mirage Island. She'd expect this from Green, yeah, but from RED?

"This _is_ modern — in Mirage Island," Red said, letting go of her shoulders. Yellow raised her arms and pulled off Bill's grey hat from her head — she felt a great mass of hair fall down her shoulders — and then said, already desperate, "But Red — I need something to be comfortable in. . ."

She gestured every part of her body, exhausted, and decided that maybe she should just endure this all. Yellow was just giving Red a hard time.

"I'm sorry," she said, scared of looking at Red after talking by herself. "I know I shouldn't have —"

"Really, not an hour goes by without you telling me you're sorry," Red said, half-laughing. Yellow swore she's gone the pinkest she could and didn't say anything to conflict. "_I'm_ the one who should be sorry — anyway, I suck at fashion. That's what Bill wore in Halloween a few years back," he said, nodding at Yellow. She looked at every part of her and shrugged.

"No, I kinda like it," Yellow said, beaming warmly back at Red, whose smile faded and had been replaced by a shocked expression, gaping. His face was purely priceless; she could just forgive him for being stupid in the first place. "Really! Anything you give me's special!"

"Y-yeah, well. . ." Red stammered — Yellow thought she's finally hit a nerve again this time, just like a few days back: maybe she doesn't have to be some kind of mini-Blue to make Red sweat. Besides, at least she was telling the truth this time — she shuddered at the memory of having lied that she's got a girlfriend. She's grown to like this itchy Huckleberry Finn gig. He ran his fingers through his hair again, and, apparently, he was at a loss for words. . . "I th-think we should g-get out now. . ."

"Have anything planned today to kill time?" asked Yellow casually, whipping her waist-long hair from her eyes as she tried to tame her bangs from getting back there again by hiding them inside Bill's greying hat. She turned to the door that leads them out.

"We — what do you mean, 'we?'" Red said, his voice starting to grow louder as he drew nearer: Yellow smirked. They'd exited the air-conditioned room and entered the temperate, golden office that was a long way from cold in Yellow's opinion. Once Red's footsteps grew louder, Yellow turned her heel to face her friend, who immediately put to a stop when he was eye-to-eye with her.

"I didn't say 'we,'" Yellow said, halfway to a fit. Red immediately stopped looking distractedly at anything in the room and turned to face Yellow full in the eyes, his face full of anxiety and discomfort. "And weren't you the one who told me we're gonna have fun today?"

It was true, though. And Yellow caught herself in surprise as well. Come to think of it, Yellow thought as her smile faded, and she'd lost her certainty of everything, she was the one feeling apprehensive in the first place. . . And now, Red was suddenly so nervous. It was like their moods have changed within the quickest span of time. . .

"Yellow?" Red said uncertainly. He tried to look at her face, but it was shaded by the shadows of her hair, and they were the same reason, too, he couldn't see her amber-brown eyes. There was something wrong with her. And, if Red was right, she'd been like this the entire day. "I _do_ have the entire day planned."

"G-great," Yellow managed to choke out, forcing with huge effort to show Red her smile while she lifted her head. "L-let's just . . . go."

She turned her heel and stared at her feet while she reached for the doorknob, but Red grabbed her by the wrist of her other hand and she stopped just when the knob clicked. Somehow, Yellow knew Red would do that, and she left it at that for now. His fingers caressed her palms, and suddenly, she was relaxed.

"I know something's wrong with you," he whispered — Yellow's heart was beating faster than usual — go figure — and she could have sworn her palms were getting sweaty, so that her hand must have felt really cold by now. There was no way she could feel this thing again, and she wouldn't let it — _he's your best friend, la la la la, you can't have him. He thinks of you as just a friend, nothing more, la la la la. . . And it doesn't hurt when you say he's too dense to feel the same — but it hurts when you say you can't be his friend because he's lived in Mirage Island all his life, doesn't it?_

"And I promise we'll find out the cause soon," Red said — a chill ran down Yellow's spine as Red took a delicate step closer, his movement echoing in the silent office, and that his mouth was just next to her left ear. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and her hand slowly relaxed on the door handle. He was so close to her right now. . .

His intake of breath was clearly heard, and it was soft, careful . . . as though he didn't want to harm Yellow every breath he took, as though he were a threat, and being this close was forbidden. . .

"Red. . ." Yellow murmured, too scared to look at him. His hand was now relaxing its grip on her wrist, and Yellow could feel the tension leaving when Red stood up straight, and he was now over a foot away from her.

"I promise," he said genially, smiling. Yellow smiled back feebly, but that smile was only a sign that she could never be his, but just for the moment . . . and that he'll never be hers, for all thoughts of them together would always be friends forever.

She opened the door, the handle clicking, and leaned — but the door suddenly bumped into something — or the 'something' bumped into the door — either way, she couldn't tell for sure — and she hit her head _hard_, followed by someone grunting at the other side of the door.

"Ack! Yellow!" Red cried, half-hysterical.

Just then, before Yellow could even fix her hat, which looked like it was going to come off at any given movement, the door opened again, and she was blown with it: she was already outside, where some figures were, too.

"Who's the boy, Red?" boomed a soft voice — Yellow froze at the door, a realization swirling inside her. It was a student, and he knows Red. . . The figures might have been his school friends — she's almost been discovered. She could already tell Red had had a hard time trying to come up with an excuse as to why he's skipped the class, and he's out in Bill's office: Yellow almost forgot the incident last night. . .

"Oh, um, the new kid," she heard Red say in the most unconvincing tone. Yellow didn't try to move, and didn't want to. She just faced the door with her hand still absentmindedly stuck holding the knob. She heard the older boy's footsteps, and only had to guess that he took a step closer to get a good look at her.

"Why haven't you been in class?" said another voice, this one rougher and lower-pitched.

"I ran into an accident last night — have you read the paper?" said Red casually, though Yellow could hear the note of contempt in his voice.

"This kid been with you, too?" asked another different voice. Why does their discussion always lead to her?

"Yeah, sh — he's a close friend."

"Mind if I get a good look at him?"

Yellow carelessly didn't act out on her instincts, which were telling her to run away, and she only felt a hand grab her by the shoulder, and she'd been turned around.

Surprisingly, Red didn't do anything — but stutter. Astonishingly still, the boy with the forceful attitude had been quite good-looking himself, Yellow had to admit, and he looked about Red's age: odd, since he had the greenest shade of hair she's seen — Wally had green hair, too, but she just didn't think she'd meet someone as weird as he was — and he had striking yellow-green eyes. He was wearing his school uniform, like the others were, but he wore it the most appropriately.

The boy seemed to not blink as often as normal, and he seemed to look patient — even more so than Green. His hair was unusually long; longer than hers, even, and he had to tie it in a loose ponytail. He may have looked odder than others, but in Yellow's opinion, he looked like some kind of god.

His eyes were wide with both astonishment and pleasure as he saw Yellow's face for the first time.

"He looks. . ." the boy said, his tone cracking. He talked rather fast for someone with such a soft voice, though.

"He looks like he's in a hurry, doesn't he?" Red said loudly, if obnoxiously, cutting between Yellow and the boy. Then Red said, at the corner of his mouth, looking at Yellow sideways, "Let's go already. . ."

Then he turned to the green-haired boy, scowling. "Go away, N."

Yellow felt the hair hidden under her hat tickle her neck, and that they really needed to get away from here. She turned to the boy and muttered, "Bye."

"Wait," said the boy, adamant: Red stepped sideways so that he was just right in front of Yellow, who was now entranced by the boy's eyes, she didn't process anything that was presently happening — but the boy had already reached for Yellow, and his hand was now caressing Yellow's chin, outstretched because Red was blocking him from her. She gave a soft gasp of surprise behind Red, and felt his long fingers burn her skin. "You're —"

"I said, GO AWAY!" Red bellowed, knocking N's hand from his shoulder. The boy pushed Red back, and, oddly enough, his eyes were still on Yellow — Red, angrier, and whose eyes flashed blood-scarlet once more, had aimed a punch for N, who was being blocked by his bigger friends.

"Wait, Red!" Yellow cried, shocked at Red's sudden aggressiveness. She turned from her spot so she could get Red away, but before she could even reach him, someone knocked her to the wall.

"I've got to save my friend!" said Yellow, squirming from 'someone's' grip as his hands pinned her wrist to the wall: their legs were entangled, and she was being pressed on the ground — her hat was slipping from her head — she didn't move her eyes from Red, who was trying so desperately to get out of N's friends in the crowd that surrounded him, not until she felt hair touch her neck: but it wasn't hers.

She moved her eyes from her friend and looked at the person who'd pinned her to the ground: terror and horror shook her world as she found out — it was N. N had apparently blocked her from any exits that will lead her to escape, and she couldn't squirm, not anymore, because he'd pinned her hands by the wrists against the wall with his own. And he was _on top_ of her — oh God. . .

"Get off — Red!" Yellow called, panicking: she kicked and squirmed so that her feet were flailing from N's own, who was adamant that she had no means of escape. He had made sure that his feet were entangled around hers, and that her hands were on the wall, and he'd driven her against the floor — she squirmed madly; his eyes were freaking her out, for they were staring at her hat — Yellow screamed as he pressed himself closer to her, her voice echoing in the halls.

"Reeeed! Rreeeeed!" she shrieked painfully, for N had brought himself _closer_ and tighter — Yellow was _very_ claustrophobic — and his mouth was so close to hers, she had to look away just so that their lips won't press together — she was dying over here — and Red over there — he had hit one of N's friends, the burly one, and he was knocked out cold: Red was being constricted down, but as his hands were free, he already managed to make 2 of the 4 of N's friends faint. Whereas she was being pinned to the ground by some long-haired bloke without any means of her to escape—

N had his own free hand, having constricted both hers with one, and he moved his fingers down her cheeks — she screamed once more — what the hell was this creep trying to do to her? — and his fingers ran all the way down her hips: she had to admit, she was tickled at first, then realized what he was trying to do.

"Get off me, you creep — Reeeeed!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs, flailing for freedom — N slammed her to the floor again, but this time, he had to use his knees: she gave another wail of pain. . .

"YELLOW!"

At the corner of her eye, she saw Red throw something — maybe it was a punch — and it was followed by a loud, crunching noise that Yellow was glad she didn't see what made it. Although when she raised her head, N had already pulled off her hat —

Her eyes widened in surprise at the turn of events — something had swung in front of her and she felt the weight on her go away — Yellow's hands were free — she couldn't feel anything heavy on her — her feet weren't constricted — a bone-crunching noise not unlike the one emitted earlier was heard — Yellow closed her eyes tight shut — and she heard nothing but the silence. The painful silence.

Then, she heard panting breaths of a familiar person. . .

"Ow. . ."

"Red!" Yellow suddenly breathed out, her eyelids fluttering open — she stood up, arranged herself, and hugged the poor bloke standing there in bated breath, hoping that his friend — Yellow — was still alive. Her arms tight around his neck, she pulled herself from him, trying to see if he was all right: he was, thank God.

"You're not hurt," Yellow whispered, surprised. Red smiled warmly.

"They're not really great in combat," he choked out, shaking his head. Then he looked at her simply, like an innocent child. "You're a great friend."

Yellow blushed — not again. . . Some bloke tells her she's a great friend, and she turns red: excellent. She delights on comments about 'friendship,' and nothing more. Brilliant.

"You are, too," she whispered, not looking up at him. But she also had a feeling he frowned.

"We're getting you back to the dorm," he said suddenly, patting her on the head, where her huge mass of hair was exposed. She's also forgotten she hasn't taken a bath this morning.

"Right."

Yellow bent down and snatched Bill's hat from N's loose grip.

. . .

Red closed the sliding door of his dorm and let Yellow in first. Yellow smiled as she turned to look around the room: a lot of dirty clothes were about.

"Go and take a shower — I'm just gonna wait over here," said Red, smiling again. He looked up the window: Yellow followed his gaze: God . . . was it already so dark out?

They'd taken their time trying to hide Yellow, they didn't realize it was already noontime. Hiding from the gardener — then the janitor . . . so much work.

The wind was blowing unpleasantly, and the clouds were closing in on the town. Rain started to pitter-patter on the windows.

"I guess I'll have to hurry," Yellow whispered, rushing to the bathroom and locking the door. And as she did, she unbuttoned her shirt already, and pulled the necktie around her neckline.

Groping for the switch, she turned the lights on — the cabinet inside the bathroom had her clothes, so she won't have a problem.

Yellow stripped everything she wore and turned the shower on: the water wasn't so cold. . . Not at all. . .

. . .

Yellow rubbed the soap against her skin as the water from the faucet showered her with the little water it had. She'd wondered why there wasn't much of a water service right now. Maybe it was the result of the storm going on outside, Yellow shrugged as she put shampoo on. . .

Her hair was already almost done now; rather and rinse. . . Rather and rinse. . . So tedious. She was almost finished already.

The water touched her skin and the bubbles were gone almost instantly: she was going to be done showering, anyway.

"Hey Yellow!" Red's voice yelled from the other side of the door. He bammed his fist on the door. "I'm gonna turn the lights of the room on now!"

She heaved a sigh: how long had she been in the shower? Red's going to turn the lights on already.

Yellow drenched her hair wet again and decided that it would be a good time to get out now. . .

She turned the faucet off, got out of the shower, and reached for the towel —

The lights went out.

The second the blackness invaded the room, Yellow slipped and landed on the bathroom floor with a crash.

"Aaaah!"

"Red?" she asked, massaging her head sorely: she stood up and groped in the darkness for her towel, drying her hair first. Was there a blackout?

When Red didnt' respond immediately, she groped for the cabinet clumsily and for the handle: awkwardly opening the doors, she let her hand feel its way to her clothes, but all she felt was the rough cabinet.

"Red?" she called, panic rising in her body. Yellow knew the worst. . . "Where're my clothes?"

"Yellow? There's a blackout — your clothes?"

His voice was so stressfully dense, Yellow was almost so sure of his answer.

"I washed them up and dried them — they're out here, on my bed."

Oh.

Shit.

Yellow was in the darkness of the blackout . . . in the bathroom . . . wrapped in a towel . . . wearing nothing . . . in Red's dorm . . . at noon . . . with her clothes outside . . . where Red was . . . meaning she can't just walk outside groping . . . because she might run into Red.


	30. Locked In

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Oh God, guys — can you ever forgive me for giving you such a long time to wait for the update? I'm really, really so sorry. I can't promise you I won't be late next time, but I will promise you I would use all the free time I have left just to write this story. **_

**GOLD: **_**You know what? I could hazard a guess that in less than 10 chapters, this story's finished. **_

**ME: **_**And that's how I plan it (DETERMINED)**_

**GOLD: **_**And YET your last chapter was more than 9 000 words? That's BRILLIANT (ROLLS EYES)**_

**ME: **_**Watch your words, Goldilocks. I'm the author of this story. I COULD control your fate. Anyway, thanks to you, you're not gonna make an appearance here: but I'm SO sorry for another cliffie. **_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_**Yay Soul X3: I had to include N since he's so popular nowadays XD I don't know him much, but enough to make a good description! Have some cake, if you'd like!**_

_**Tigrun: I'm glad you do X) Cassava?**_

_**XXX: I'm starting to play The Legend Of Zelda thanks to you XD I love that game! Thanks for the popcorn! I guess it's stale, now =( Have a fudge cupcake XD**_

_**SplitHeart1120: Yep! Hope you guys like this. Perverse, I know, this one. . . Have a chocolate fudge cake!**_

_**MOFZ19: Thanks! =) I'm sorry it took me a long time to update, though =( Have two slices of cake XD**_

_**Panda Strawberry: Wow, a newcomer XD Nice to see you reviewing! I'm glad you did. Have a (CHUCKLE) strawberry cupcake XP**_

**29****th**** CHAPTER: LOCKED UP**

**LOG SIXTEEN **

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY; SKY PILLAR'S ISLAND**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY; MIRAGE ISLAND — FAST**

**T**he lights were out. She was all alone in the bathroom now — her entire naked body had been wrapped with only a _towel_. And Red was just outside, waiting for her to be finished showering.

"Yellow?" said Red's voice uncertainly. Panic swelled inside Yellow's body and, in a careless act of following her instincts — which were telling her to go out using the window and get back in using the front door and snatch her clothes right under Red's nose — she predictably hit her head against the door of the cabinet, and grunted loudly in pain. There was a sudden shuffling of footsteps outside, and Yellow's brain hurriedly worked fast just to let Yellow know that Red was going to _go in and check on her_.

"Are you okay?" Red's voice rang — unsurprisingly, but horror-striking just the same, his hand was now trying to open the door with the handle: Yellow hastily stood up and was just in time to close the door as she leaned when Red already managed to unlock it: her back was pressed against the door, which probably had Red leaning at the other side too, and she yanked a strand of wet hair from her face just so she could concentrate on this.

"What — are you done yet?" he said, most likely pressing his ear against the door to hear from her. Yellow gulped, looking at the floor in the darkness: she adjusted her towel so that it was just above her chest and, even though it was pouring rain outside and that she's just taken a shower, felt herself warm up hotter than she usually did. Yellow tried to avoid thinking of anything that involved Red and herself in the same room with her wearing only a towel and randomly made herself to think of rainbows and unicorns, where flashes of Red and herself appeared arbitrarily still.

"I-I am," Yellow said, wondering whether or not this was some kind of stupid irony: here she was in Mirage Island, where boys rape girls to survive, and the only place she's safe was where her friend was — whom she also hid a secret liking to — fine, she liked him, so what? — and now she's trapped herself in the bathroom in the same place her friend lives, wearing nothing but a towel — how come she always repeats that? — because he put her clothes out of the cabinet. "R-Red — can you get out of the d-dorm?"

She knew her statement was sort of stupid, and that something would eventually shoot her idea down as usual. Yellow practically felt Red's apprehensiveness at the other side of the door, and that he seemed to have stood straighter.

"Wh — the storm's too strong," Red said, and his voice was now full with suspicion. _I knew there's something that'll shoot my idea down. _"I could get you your clothes, if you want —"

"NO!"

Yellow practically screamed. She silently cursed herself for yelling and rested her chin on her shoulder, trying to find a way to solve this problem.

"You're not saying you're in there in your — your _you-know-what_ —"

If the situation weren't about her, she'd laugh.

"— and locked yourself there just so you won't bump into me, are you?"

Yellow's legs slipped and she had to grope for the cabinet so she would stand up straight again. She took a deep breath and said rather meekly, blushing the reddest she could, "No — I'm not exactly in my . . . my 'you-know-what'. . ."

She heard Red heave a sigh of relief and her stomach seemed to flip itself backwards.

"Actually . . . I'm n-not wearing _anything_. . ."

The truth that once stayed at her lips was now slipping its own way out of her mouth when she played with her dry tongue, and before she had even registered what she'd said. Yellow shyly adjusted the towel again, and she could have sworn that she could see her surroundings now because of the pinkish glow she was emitting by herself: she once again yanked a few strands of hair from her face, waiting for Red's reply, which she knew was most likely never going to come out of his mouth.

Her waist was getting a little bit uncomfortable at the moment, and her hammering heart wasn't doing any better: Yellow's chest alone was really painful, and it seemed almost suicidal to carry her weighty brain, which was now a million times heavier. Her pale hands carelessly caressed her cheek, for she was feeling very warm, and the only thing cold there was her sweaty hands at the moment.

She'd stood there for so long, her hair seemed to be drying up already. Yellow decided she would break the awkward silence — the most uncomfortable one ever — by herself, but before she could even say anything, she felt Red hit the door; the impact affected a large part of the door, so she just hazarded a guess that Red turned round and slammed his back against the door.

Yellow pressed her ear against the door and waited to hear what Red was saying: he was swearing, and apparently, it was about Green leaving the both of them. She blushed.

"Red?" she said, half-feeling embarrassed and half-mad at herself. She sat on the cold, bathroom floor with her legs on top of each other and leaned against the door, "I'm sorry I got you into this mess. . ."

"I'm not gonna say this is exactly a thing I'd let go easily." His voice seemed as casual as usual, and that just lifted Yellow's spirits: and at the same time had the violent urge to slap Red across the face because he was slightly being such a pervert about this. . . "But if you like, I'll go outside and you can grope all you need to find your clothes —"

"N-no, y-you can't do that!" Yellow stammered, trembling suddenly: what was this feeling? It felt like she was being electrocuted or something. . . Her heart was clawing her chambers just so it could escape, and her stomach felt like bouncing around her insides. She moved her ear away from the door and faced the bathroom darkness, her hands wrapped around herself, trying to control the newly-born monster that was rampaging inside her, sending heat all over her body. . . Though if she was feeling so warm, why was she trembling?

"Don't be stupid, you can't wear nothing the whole night!"

"_I'm_ not the one who's stupid — you're the one who wanted to go outside in the storm!"

The thunder cracked outside — Yellow flinched and gave a loud scream, panicking to the fullest — there was something big that hit the dorm, since she heard a sort of bumping noise that was most probably an object flying ballistic in the storm: the windows rattled, and there was a momentary flash of light, and Yellow could have sworn she'd heard Red hit his head hard on the bathroom door.

"That wasn't . . . good, is it?" Yellow said, her voice cracking: she once again leaned against the lower part of the door, her legs entangled with themselves, sitting on the cold floor of the bathroom. All so suddenly, she wanted to forget that she was almost stark-naked and to come out of there and actually have company so she could have someone to talk to in _person_. Come to think of it, Yellow pondered to herself, her pokéballs were on her belt . . . which was attached to her clothes. Damn this luck.

"Green and Bill should be back by now!" Red said out loud. A thought popped inside Yellow's mind so suddenly.

"Red — get out of the door," she said hoarsely, in barely a whisper. It was so brilliant — she'd repeated everything in her mind. . . Why didn't she think of it before?

"What? Why?" Red asked, and it wasn't a wonder to think that he had absolutely no idea what Yellow was on about.

"I'm gonna get out of the bathroom."

"YOU CAN'T!"

"Why not?" Yellow demanded, not unkindly, but not in a suggestive tone either. He wasn't going to be a stupid gentleman about this now, was he? Yellow rolled her eyes as she felt Red's fidgeting at the other side of the door: it was almost uncomfortable. . . Her idea wasn't much of an idea at all — she just wanted to get out of there: it seemed it'd be warmer outside, anyway, what with the air-conditioning off.

Red, on the other hand, seemed to be having a hard time just to find a problem that was against Yellow's view.

"You just can't get outta there wearing a _towel_ —"

"I can and I will," Yellow said boldly — get it? — but she had to admit, she hasn't blushed this much before: she could practically have enough heat to light a fire. Yet she had to stick her legs together just in case: the towel only reached halfway to her knees, and she was already struggling to keep it high enough from revealing her —

"You might get bumped into me!" Red cried. There was something different with his tone right now, though. . . And his voice seemed to be a bit more . . . airy? No; he sounded like he had the bad case of the cold or something. . . Or something was clogging his nose.

"Red?" said Yellow, a realization creeping up her spine. "You're not bleeding through your nose —"

"No I'm not!"

He was denying it. Yellow could just tell.

"I'd stop talking if you get out of the way —"

"Deal."

"W-what?" Yellow said, surprised at this — she didn't expect him to agree so fast, surprised; yet pleased. She heard Red shuffle himself — she managed to lean against the lower part of the door with the palm of her hand, holding the knot of her towel quite instinctively with her other: panic had risen inside her when she saw Red's shadow at the other side of the door disappear in the darkness, and a slightly light blackness took over the airy space.

"You could get out now." Red's muffled voice was so sheepish, Yellow didn't even realize he was talking until he gave a loud noise that seemed to be like someone clearing his throat. Her legs, which were both on the floor, were feeling slightly numb since she'd been in her kneeling position for quite a long time — about 45 seconds was her knees' limits, she regrettably thought — and Yellow would really like it if she'd get out of there now. . .

But then again, was Red really up for this? Or is he just pretending for her sake? Either way, he'd be happy. . . Happy, but with a bleeding nose. Yellow knew with all her mind that Red wasn't a pervert — at least not as Gold was.

"A-a — okay," she said, gulping. She made sure her voice was loud enough to be heard as there was a constant flash of lightning; lightning could easily mean thunder: and sure enough, after the temporary flash of light which came from the window of the bathroom, another thunder followed. Yellow heard Red shuffling his footsteps next, then she was so sure she would bump into him any time now because of her rising paranoia.

"What're you waiting for?" Red said, his voice obviously cracking: though this wasn't the time for Yellow to mock him about that; hark who's talking. . .

"I-I — how far are you from the d-door?" she stammered, trying to lift herself up from her sitting position — oh God. . . She's _trembling_ . . . she clumsily reached her shaking fingers for the knob of the door, while her other had tried to keep her towel up.

"Quite," he said placidly.

And a thought suddenly popped inside Yellow's mind: her insides were now squeezing themselves, almost to the point that they'll burst and her heart was trying to eat itself up. Once she found her voice, it was then she said, "You told me you could see in the dark!"

She was _mad_: angry. . . She'd never felt so much like this before — and didn't want to. . . What was happening? It's like her anger was taking over her body . . . and she can't help it. As though she couldn't control herself. Red really was an idiot, was he?

"I — you — I _could_," Red said, his voice also rising: but not for the same reason Yellow's was. He'd better have a good explanation for this. . . Yellow gave Red time to think of one, tapping her foot on the bathroom floor impatiently. "But since Kyogre's here — you know my 'reactions' just last night — I _can't_."

"What?" Yellow yelped, her anger extraordinarily sapping away from her: her head was less heavy, and she could feel, even in the dark, that her clear vision was starting to return. She pounded on the door, pressing her body against it, her other hand groping for the knob. "It can't be! How? We just found out this morning that it's just headed here!"

"Yeah, but . . . there's never been a blackout in Mirage Island. Not once," Red whispered audibly, mysteriously. . . This just made Yellow hyperventilate.

"Can't we do anything about it? Can't we —"

Her hand absentmindedly found the doorknob it was groping for and unlocked the door — it swung open — Yellow felt her weight being pulled — she was flung _with _the door — like last time-

"Ack! Yellow!"

Yellow gave a loud squeal — her hands were too busy keeping her towel up — she felt her heavy mass of hair whip in front of her before she even knew she was falling — she was being drained by a loud, shrieking noise made by a girl: her vision was turning cloudy and blurry — and before she even realized it was hers, not a second later Yellow didn't feel the floor — she didn't feel the pain she was dreading for a split-second's time between which she flung the door open — she was carefully balanced: she could only guess that her nose was only a feet from the floor — and she was standing, lolling, in tiptoe.

It took Yellow a while to figure out that her arms were being held by the elbows, and that her towel had been let _loose _— her hands, which weren't motional due to shock and, frankly, her arms were held, couldn't hold the towel that exposed her cold body: the towel was just suspended and didn't fall on the floor because it was still hung round Yellow's small waist. She could feel her wet hair's tips touch her skin.

The grip on Yellow's elbows slackened — though Yellow barely noticed.

"Yellow? You're not hurt?"

. . .

"Hey, answer!"

. . .

"Hey!" Red said, looking down at what he guessed to be his friend's hairy head — but when he raised Yellow up with her arms, he felt a sharp pain that spread in his cheek area: his tooth had almost been knocked from the enamel and he — or at least he reckoned he did — landed cheek-first on the floor. There was a shuffling of what seemed to be garments that followed after the slap that rung in the entire dorm.

Yellow hurriedly, almost spitefully, adjusted the towel around her and knotted its end to a tie, very, very warm.

She heard Red moan, and she only had to guess he was massaging his cheek from the blow.

"Why . . . did you do that —" Red said weakly — though he wasn't even _mad_ — Yellow seized the chance to fire up at once — it was her mood swing all over again: she didn't know where it was coming from and even trusted her instincts almost immediately almost as if just because she wanted to do something.

"You're such a pervert, you know that?" she said, hating Red. If only she knew, though, she wasn't looking at Red in the dark but at the nearest vase on the table. Neither of them realized that. Yellow needed to control her anger. . . Red was the only bloke who'd ever give his trust to her. Another part of her told her that she needed to release all her feelings. They were twisting every truth into a lie. . . "I'm sorry, but can you just lower your over-the-top ego?"

"E-excuse me, but _ego_?" Red repeated, shocked. Yellow heard his shoes tap on the floor and only had to imagine him stand up.

"That's right — _ego_. Why do you have to be a hero all the time —"

"I wasn't trying to be a hero!" Red said defensively. It was strange, but Yellow already knew that: there was just something inside her that was urging her to make up every possible excuse to retort. Even if it wasn't true. "Why're you so mad, anyway? It's not like your towel came off when I. . ."

Yellow's gut snapped: her vision, however dark it already was, blurred at the corners — it was cloudy and, weirder still, she could literally see the shining smirk of Red in the dark: he was sneering . . . like a pervert. Putting aside the mystery of how she suddenly knew he was sneering, she replaced her puzzlement with rage and slapped Red across his face.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry."<p>

"Stop."

"Please, I really am."

"Please be quiet."

"I want you to know I'm really sorry!"

"Save your breath," Yellow said firmly, crouched at the corner of the dorm, facing the wall that was beside the bathroom door. Red, on the other hand, was doing the exact same thing at the other corner of the dorm squashed in the gap that stood between the wall and his bed. They'd been doing this for over half an hour already, and even though Yellow knew the battle has ended, it was because Red surrendered. She'd only known herself to be this mad since she was 8 years old. . . She hasn't exploded since. On Gold, yes, but on others . . . no.

"Pleeease," pleaded Red, groaning.

Somehow, it was like Yellow wanted the battle to continue. . . It's like she was pretending to be mad . . . even to herself. Why does Red want to apologize so much? Was she simply abusing his friendliness? Why is she like this?

"What's going to happen. . ." Yellow began instead, finding a topic, also ignoring his pleas, ". . . when Kyogre gets here?"

Strangely enough — not to mention so heart-melting — Red was happy all the same that she'd begun a subject to him that he was surely certain of. "It's gonna continue its battle with Groudon. But it's weird Groudon's still not arrived yet. . ."

"Didn't you say Kyogre's only been _summoned_ by the one who once possessed — or possesses — the Blue Jewel?" Yellow asked, yanking a few strands of wet hair and tucking them behind her hair.

"Yeah, it is, and Rayquaza has only been awakened since Kyogre's awakened to stop it from fighting Groudon — who's currently not present yet. . ." Red went on. Then his tone completely changed to thoughtful, "Know what? That _is_ weird."

"Yeah, well, that's what I _don't_ know," Yellow murmured under her breath, grimacing in the blackness. She rested her head on her own shoulder and slumped, crossing her arms. This was gonna be hard. She clicked her tongue and opened her mouth, half-hoping Red would interrupt, and half-expecting he won't, "I'm sorry I slapped you."

"It wasn't your fault," Red said at the corner. He really was an idiot, wasn't he? She was apologizing to him and he just says it was his fault — though Yellow, too, is an idiot, she lamely realized. They're gonna figure out what's happened to Groudon later, anyway — what they won't figure out is how they're going to make up after the fight if they won't settle this now.

"Wasn't yours, either," Yellow said, feeling her cheekiness come back again. A smile played her lips silently in the darkness. The rain had been pounding on the roof like boulders, even though the thunder and lightning have gone — shame, though, since the temporary light might give Yellow an opportunity to find her clothing.

Red let out a delighted chuckle which was only barely heard in the loud storm. Pleased that she made Red happy, Yellow had the courage to continue with her antics, but chose not to, since it was Red's turn to talk. They only had a considerable amount of heat in the room. . . They're not going to use it all by talking a lot. Yellow shivered as the wind rattled the windows as though she, too, felt the cold: she kept herself warm by hugging herself around her exposed shoulders.

At last, Red spoke, "You're okay, right?"

Intrigued and puzzled by this question, Yellow asked, "Why shouldn't I be?"

He's asked her that several times now today alone. The towel that's now tightly wrapped around her waist is keeping her warm enough — her hair may still be wet, but she's got that taken care of, too. . . The storm's pretty bad, though, but Green and Bill won't take long. Red seemed to be a little uncomfortable trying to make himself reply to this.

"N. . . That bloke — he —"

"Oh — oh!"

N. . . That boy. Yellow felt herself light up in the darkness and suddenly, her voice in her head was louder than the rain outside. She shouldn't have been so curious why Red asked her. There were flashes of explicit images inside her head appearing before her mind's eye like lightning in the storm: what would have happened if Red had not been there to save her. . . Yellow shuddered and her hands fell to her lap, where the towel's boundary could only reach.

Every nerve inside Yellow's body was swelling at the very memory — from Yellow's perspective, N was trying to see if she was not what she seemed. . . Yellow's palms were icily sweaty and she used this coldness to keep herself a bit cooler. Her adrenaline hormone was exploding violently, and her heart was now ballistic in its chambers. . . Red said N was one of his friends. . . Yet, she can't help but notice the contemptous way of him talking to N.

She could remember N pinning her to the ground with ease, and how his eyes were only upon her. . . Yellow already knew enough of N to guess that he wasn't bothered at all by Red's punch, and that the only thing he was concerned of was that she got away. What if he'd found out? What if he _did _find out? A million questions not unlike these kept repeating inside Yellow's mind, and she tried to clog them.

She closed her eyes to think. Perhaps — only perhaps — in Red's view, it would have been quite different: well, what'd she expect, the idiot dragged her up the wall and pinned her to the floor, what else _didn't _it look? But, the nagging voice inside Yellow's head said while Yellow herself shouted, _Shut up_, that N boy did look like he seemed to be drawn to her . . . somehow. And that scared her, since her nagging voice was always annoyingly right. Yellow has got to stop listening to Chris.

"N is usually one of the most placid students in school," Red said finally — the silence had stretched _so _long, Yellow had winced in surprise and has forgotten that they were in the middle of a conversation. Red seemed to be a bit forceful when he spoke: maybe, Yellow guessed as she yanked a few strands of hair from her face, he just wanted to know how she was, and she just made him feel a little uncomfortable pressing the subject a bit further. She's every bit of an idiot as Red was — maybe an even bigger one. She opened her small mouth to talk, but she took so long deciding what she was going to say Red had already cut across her. "You didn't seem to handle yourself there. . ."

"That's because I _can't_," Yellow said, rolling her eyes — though she cursed herself she blushed. She was so snappy when she said this, it only took her a second's thought to think this was the reason why Red didn't reply, and another pause ensued. It just occurred to Yellow that the both of them, herself and Red, were really very conscious on how the other would react in their words.

"Hey, d'you play riddles?"

Yellow's brain sparked a light inside her and she immediately stood up from crouching down, wheeling around and tried to face what she thought was Red at the other corner of the room. "I love riddles!"

"I've got plenty," said Red, and there was a noise that sounded like his upper and lower rows of teeth clicked. Suddenly, his next words were drowned by the loud rain.

They couldn't hear each other if they were this far, Yellow grimaced. . . There was no way—

Oh.

Crap.

The only _other_ way. . . She hadn't felt anything like this, she thought as she moved her palm up to her chest, feeling her heart pumping wildly. Yellow could find nothing else to do other than to talk freely to her friend . . . but the risk was too dangerous.

It was . . . odd, though. Had this situation happened earlier, she would have pushed this matter away as her influencial friend, Chris, would. But now, she could feel a sudden surge of courage and, unlike last time, she would accept this dangerous and suicidal feeling and yearning, which was so unlike her, _recklessness_.

Even though a part of her didn't know it, or was unaware because she was thinking this situation too thoroughly and did this absently, a devious smile played her lips seen in the moonlight.

"Hey, Red, I got an idea for us to play riddle," Yellow said, her voice rising with excitement . . . but Red, however, couldn't not notice her slight tone of puzzlement even at the far corner in the loud rain. A slight shudder bristled down the small hairs of his body: he felt something in his body — don't ask what, since it's already _obvious _— was throbbing, and he felt all jittery by the tone of her voice alone.

_Snap out of it, idiot. _

I've got a naked girl in my dorm.

_Shut up! _

Yellow's in a towel.

_I said, SHUT UP!_

And she's using an _accent_.

_SHUT UP, YOU PERVERTED FREAK!_

"How about. . ." Yellow began thoughtfully still, and Red heard the unmistakable sound of shuffling clothing — specifically, for Yellow, a _towel_. He cringed, his eyes widening in the dark. ". . . We both sit facing each other at the gap between your bed and mine?"

Oh _fu _—

"I'veanidea," Red spluttered, his face turning very hot, inventing wildly when he heard Yellow's footsteps. "How about we sit here and pretend nothing's happened?"

"That's not very good," Yellow's voice whimpered playfully — oh _God_, what the hell has gotten into her? More footsteps: Red acted instinctively and immediately stood up, whirling around.

"I think I like your idea better," he said immediately — he raised his pointing finger and, even though he knew they were in the blackness of the power cut, he pulled a thoughtful expression just in case, because Red had another sense that told him Yellow could see in the dark, which was very stupid. Although, Red thought, it was true enough. . .

"Sure" was the only answer he'd taken from Yellow, and, gulping, he took a shortcut over the bed and guessed Yellow was already squatting in front of him when he sat down with his legs crossed on the floor of the gap between his bed and Yellow's.

The rain had poured down harder, and, if possible, it was darker than it already had been. The only sound apart from that was Red's heartbeat, which he felt suddenly quicken now that he knew Yellow was eyeing him carefully in the dark. He started to get cold, and sweat was coming down him fast. But he didn't know why. His only option was to play clueless and innocent like he always did. . .

"So, what about that riddle?" he said, casually using his this-is-so-awkward-but-I'm-pretending-it's-not tone. But what Yellow replied was not what he expected,

"What?"

Again, Red's spirits fell, and he hadn't a clue what made Yellow say that. Wasn't she paying attention? Hadn't she, just a moment ago, been the one who was all cheeky? What happened then? Red expected a much more . . . _un-Yellow-like_ way of her to answer, just as she always replied to his nervous attempts to change the idea earlier.

He ran his fingers through his hair nervously and said, blushing, "W-weren't you gonna tell me a r-riddle?"

"O-oh."

That one seemed to surprise Red, too, and she used the same tone she did a word ago. Red was astonished, and had his eyes widened: he knew it, he knew it — he'd seen something glint a flash of green when Yellow slapped him. . . And it all made sense: the incident in Bill's room, though . . . she still didn't know . . . she still wasn't aware of it. . .

Red reckoned her mood swings were of to blame. She had a strange habit of changing expressions when Red talks to her. Oh _damn_, he was in trouble now. But how could Red explain this to Green? He'd already explained this to Bill, Red thought as he looked deep into Yellow's curious eyes in the dark. . . She didn't need to know, Red concluded, not yet.

He wasn't gonna hurt her, he thought as he dug his hand deep in his pocket, clutching a ripped piece of parchment determinedly. Yellow might have thought she was going mental, like Red did when he first touched the Red Jewel, but she still didn't know. . .

"How'd you like me to start it?" Red said gleefully, sensing her cheekiness fade away: it's like she's forgotten about it like all the rest of the time. Hell, he could practically feel her cold, nervous breath against his face even though they were a feet apart.

"I . . . I . . . what?" Yellow managed, her lip quivering. She hadn't had the foggiest idea what she was thinking then, and now she's had to take matters into her own hands and deal with whatever the devil inside her started after it corrupted her mind. Her heart was pounding against her chest, and her intestines were squirming: she instinctively drew her legs nearer her and thought this all over.

Yeah . . . she was such an idiot for forgetting what she'd absentmindedly done. Yellow hated hormones.

"Okay!" Red said happily, like he didn't notice anything. Too bad, Red's pretending nothing . . . _seductive _took over him and Yellow forgot what she was doing before this. Yellow bit her lip nervously and wondered in dread when her Blue-like hormone would strike next. The thunder bellowed once again, and the wind kept bashing on the windows, howling. "What runs but never walks; has a mouth but never talks; has a bed but never sleeps?"

"I've never heard that one before," said Yellow, thinking deeply. Well, it's better solving a riddle than solving a problem which she didn't have any lead to. Red's a good one. . . She scratched her chin, pursed her lips and yanked a few more strands of hair from her face. It could be anything. . . "Can't be the sea; it has a bed, but never sleeps. . . Can't be a creature either."

As weird as it seems, Yellow _felt_ Red smile.

"You done?"

"Not yet!" Yellow cried, pouting.

"Why's it taking you so long, then?" Red demanded, mockingly in his tone. Yellow clicked her tongue annoyingly: that son of a. . .

"I still haven't found out what it is. . . It's not fair," she whined, her voice cracking.

"Yeah, well, too bad for you: the answer's 'river,' and you're too late," Red exclaimed childishly. To think she was younger than him. . . He's no better than Gold, Yellow shared to herself, hating Red playfully, the idiot. "Okay — answer this one and it's your turn. . ."

"Not fair!" she cried indignantly.

"What's not fair is that you didn't answer and you get to say a riddle!" Red said peevishly. "All right — I'm sorry for shouting. . . Er, there are 60 M in 1 H."

"You picked the easy one," Yellow said, rolling her eyes. "60 minutes in 1 hour.

"My turn," she said. He's gonna pay. "I never was, am always to be, no one ever saw me, nor ever will. And yet I am the confidence of all who live and breathe on this terrestrial ball. What am I?"

There was a pregnant pause. For a second, Yellow actually thought she was winning, and that nothing could bring her more joy than to see Red thinking hard until —

Aha, a swearword.

"Red!" Yellow cried, scandalized and shocked — not to mention happy — at the same time. Yes — she'd defeated the Riddle King. She tried her best to hide her laughter by biting back a chuckle, then she realized Red was already talking and sobered up.

"Crap, Yellow, I couldn't understand a single" — he swore once more and Yellow had to shout "_Red!_" again — "word you said," he finished, undisturbed by the repulsive look Yellow was giving him. Somehow, that made Yellow smile. A little.

"I don't think you're gonna give this one up," Yellow murmured meekly, blushing, listening to a mixture Red's frustrated curses and the noise of him scratching the back of his neck. "I know you'll always finish what you started. . ."

Right; Red's just that kind of person. . . A true hero. . . A hero to her. . . He'll never give up hope saving her; and she won't ever give up faith in him, either. . . But the bloke's head was so thick, not even a Rhydon can make a dent through it. . . Nobody's perfect, after all . . . but there were times Red had been so smart . . . so genius . . . even intelligent.

Slowly, her eyelids were drooping, and she felt drowsiness coming: not that she minded . . . on the contrary, she quite welcomed it. Yellow always wanted to hear Red's voice before she drifts to a nice slumber — even though his swearing was a bit different. He was so nice. . . Has a problem with cursing, but that can be resolved . . . somehow. He saved her . . . from N . . . and they're now . . . somewhere . . . in the . . .

Yellow snapped back awake, her eyelids slowly lifting themselves up: she was so sleepy. . . Red was once more boring into Yellow's drowsy sight, and was nothing more but someone who was talking themselves mental until dawn. . . Yellow's head nodded, and it hit her bed, where she lay it to rest: she adjusted herself in her position, feeling very cold, what with wearing nothing but a stupid towel — thanks to Red — and slowly fell into a slight, peaceful na. . .

Zzzzz. . .

"I've got it!" Red shouted, punching his fist on his palm. Yellow woke up so abruptly in her sleep she hit her head on the bedside table _hard_. "It's tomorrow!"

"Whazza?" Yellow said, half-asleep: she could barely see _anything_. . . Oh, right, they were in the middle of a riddle game. She slept? Yellow rubbed her eyes lazily and let out a yawn. It took her quite a while to register what Red said. "_I slept the whole night?_"

"What? No! I meant, tomorrow is the answer to the riddle!" he said happily. Right now, riddles didn't mean anything to Yellow, she thought groggily, shaking her head . . . sleep did, though. . . Dense as ever, the idiot. . .

"Yeah, great," she said, her voice muffled: maybe if Red was clueless enough, he'd talk all night and not even notice she's asleep. . . So she covered her eyes with her hand and waited for sleep to return.

But, for once, Red didn't say anything. He seemed to be waiting for Yellow's thoughts, and somehow, missed them. Even though Red was sad about that . . . Yellow felt light: he cared for her.

"Yellow?" Red said, studying her face in the darkness — though if he only knew, Yellow thought scathingly, he missed her face by ten inches and was staring at the clock behind her. Hang on, Yellow said to herself with a jolt, her drowsiness replaced by mingled shock. How'd she know? "This . . . this doesn't have anything to do with your _family_, does it?"

Yellow heaved a sigh, feeling the stinging pain burst inside her stomach as it rose and devoured her heart instead — her head became heavier and she felt it throb. She didn't think of that. . . Gold . . . Uncle Wilton. . . A million different kinds of questions filled her head. . . Where are they now? What're they doing? And, most importantly, Yellow thought, gulping nervously and looking at the window where the storm was seen, how are they doing?

She straightened in her seat, her legs stinging: she must've taken a little long in this sitting position . . . the cramps were proofs of that. Yellow once again adjusted the knot of her towel — not that she was suspicious of Red, it's just that she's developed an odd habit of checking whether or not it was going loose. She felt Red grope his hand in the darkness, and had to scoot a bit closer so he wouldn't . . . touch the wrong places.

When he finally felt his way to her hand, he massaged it with his thumb. His touch was so warm. . . It oddly made the atmosphere a bit less cold, and Yellow was suddenly filled with hope, grimacing: Gold was strong. . . Hell, too strong, for that matter. She knew him; he'll survive. Uncle Wilton may be a bit off, but he's still got fists, doesn't he? Yellow could remember the last time they went to a theatre he hit the bloke giving tickets away because he 'freaked Uncle Wilton out.'

"Where . . . are you gonna go?" Yellow whispered softly, pulling his hand to her cheek like a child hugging her teddy bear. Their faces may be a feet away, but they were literally squeezed in the tight, shared space of the gap between their beds: Red's feet already reached the foot of her bed, and he had to spread only one so that Yellow won't get closeted by the space they shared. She kept her legs, however, close to her, since, well . . . towel, remember. . .

"Where am I gonna. . . ?" Red repeated skeptically, but it was left unfinished because Yellow, frustrated, rephrased her question.

"No — sorry, I meant —" — Yellow gave a loud sigh — "— you're — you, Green and Bill — you're not gonna come . . . with me?"

Yeah, she was acting like a worried kid. But right now it didn't matter: she wanted to know. Frazzled, apparently, by this, she scrambled for the right words and they came out wrong. _Dammit_.

Yellow guessed it was a good thing it was dark, since she didn't want to see Red's face or reaction. She shrank a bit.

"I . . . I guess we'll have to continue our lives," Red said finally, sighing — though Yellow couldn't help but notice his tone was shaky. Her heart sank. "But we've stayed in Mirage Island for so long, I guess we've got no more lives to pick up where we left off. . . Everybody's forgotten about us by now. . ."

A sudden thought occurred to Yellow. She can't help but wonder. . .

"What do you think happened to Green's sister?" she said, before she'd even decided whether she was going to ask this. The thunder outside bellowed: the wind made the window rattle, yet there was no sign of lightning. Damn.

She felt Red's shoe slip and hit the foot of her bed.

"Wh — Daisy?" he said, startled. Yellow, even though she fully knew there was no way he could see in the darkness, docilely nodded. As if on cue, Red answered almost as immediately after she nodded, "She's a strong one, Daisy is. Even though I haven't met her, or I think I didn't" — Yellow seized the dark opportunity to roll her eyes — "Green told me she's a stubborn girl. But he thinks she's changed: she was twelve then, and God knows how she is."

Her heart pumping furiously, she gulped, shaking: but not with the cold.

"Red. . . I-I've been wanting to ask you. . ." she whispered, her eyes starting to water: she clutched her heart, half-expecting it to burst, and pulled her legs closer to her. She's got to be honest with him. . . Yellow heard Red grunt a bit in what she hoped to be confusion, which should be his best possible reaction compared to what she dreaded. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "What . . . would . . . have—I mean. . ."

She gathered all her courage and clenched her fists.

"Have you ever been . . . in l-lo . . . in love?"

"L-love?"

Her very guts burst. She was never going to repeat that. She couldn't believe it: she was trembling, and her head was throbbing mad. A million of what she expected to be Red's answers filled her head, things like, "_What's that?_" and "_Why would I?_" they all made Yellow . . . furious.

It took Red a few moments to regain focus, it seemed: love? Well, Red thought, blushing, he once had a crush on 1st Grade. . . But that was before he found out that she already had eyes for David Archuleta.

"I . . . I don't know," he murmured, growing very hot. His hormones must've been coursing through every fibre of his body now. . . He's begun to block . . . unpleasant images of Yellow and himself since . . . well, since he found out _he_ was actually a _she_, and right now, it's like he can't take it anymore: his mind was welcoming them humbly, and now he was fighting the urge to actually _do it_ to Yellow.

"H-how can't you?" Yellow asked, tilting her head down so that her hair would cast a shadow upon her eyes. She can't be crying: she promised herself to stop crying when she turned 13. . . Not now. . . The thunder roared outside, and Yellow felt it pierce her fragile heart.

"But," Red said — Yellow's head hit her bed, and she found her small hands once again pinned to the wall — her eyes bulged — she felt someone brush their fingers against her skin of her leg — and as fast as you can read this sentence, it was then Yellow figure out, after she felt Red's breath at her neck, Red was _on top of her_.

GOD. GOD. GOD. GOD. GOD. GOD. GOD.

_Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, DAMN! Just strip her already! _

Red slowly, licentiously, tucked a few strands of Yellow's hair from her face, controlling his strong lust — Yellow couldn't do anything: nothing could ruin this — er, stop this. . . Her heart was exploding, and she wondered why she was still alive.

He was so close. . . So near. . . Though a little too near for comfort, Yellow might add. . .

This might be it — she can't have something wrong with her, right, that made Red suddenly rush forward — this is too precious. . .

He seemed to lean a bit forward, but his lips were pursed and his mouth was closed. In the end, much to Yellow's disappointment, Red shook his head. . .

The door burst open — Yellow instinctively pulled down the covers of her bed to cover her—Red slowly returned to his position, sighing: the lights came on — they could see.

In front of Yellow sat Red, looking quite disgruntled, though not angry; he just looked as though he lost an opportunity. But, Yellow thought, raising the blankets up to eye-level, what did _she_ look like?

A tall brunette entered the room, panting: it was Bill, and he was sopping wet. "Red — Yellow — Green's gone. He's ran into the forest."


	31. Missing

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**This took me another while to finish. See how time's flown! I could remember the first day I tried on my first story ever. . . Last chapter was done with NO such thought, and it was pretty RANDOM. I couldn't get how drunk I was then. . . (MUMBLES)**_

**GOLD: **_**You missed Yellow's birthday.**_

**ME: **_**God, I forgot (ROLLS EYES SARCASTICALLY) Of course I haven't! That's why I made a tribute to Specialshipping in YouTube! Though my computer broke down and I haven't finished it yet ='(**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

**XXX: **_**There. You. Go. AGAIN! It's like you know everything on my mind O.O Oh, and I'd finished Spirit Tracks and the Phantom Hourglass, but I'm deciding whether or not to buy the Wind Waker. It's amazing. Oh, would you like cupcakes?**_

**SplitHeart1120: **_**Haha XD I guess you don't talk too much. Can't be helped. Have a pizza slice!**_

**MOFZ19: **_**You seem really excited! I am, too XD Have a cake!**_

**ME: **_**Over the past few weeks, I'd gotten addicted to Percy Jackson XD And to Artemis Fowl! I'm a real geek for these kind of stuff, but I'll always heart Harry Potter XD**_

**30****TH ****CHAPTER: MISSING**

**LOG SEVENTEEN**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY — MIRAGE ISLAND**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY — SKY PILLAR'S ISLAND **— 5: 53 AM****

"**W**hat do you mean, Green's gone into the forest?" Yellow exclaimed, her voice muffled: she didn't care how her untied hair looks like hell under the blankets she pulled down to cover her — as long as nobody sees her in — in — in, well, _nothing_, it's more than excellent. But what meant more to her right now was Green's whereabouts: when the wind blew and drew water into the dorm, Bill closed the door. Red looked at him up and down, mildly surprised — Bill was really very wet, and his bronze-brown hair was now darker now that it's drenched in water.

"I mean it!" Bill cried, his voice cracking: whether it was from panic or from the rain, Yellow didn't know. All she knew was, Bill must've been too upset about this since he was usually so calm in such situations. He wiped his forehead. "I need help from both of you! We didn't have any leads to find Celebi. . ."

"That just means it's in the island of Sky Pillar," Red said, trying to knock some sense into Bill. Bill frowned at him, scowling.

"And then _Green_ — the boy went mad. He said that we have no hope whatsoever — drove himself up the wall — and shouted a bit. . ." said Bill. Yellow had the feeling he was trying to keep his voice cool, and left a trace of shakiness. She couldn't blame him, though. . . Bill pressed his thumb hard into his temples, and sighed, shuddering. "I think it must've been the effect of Kyogre's presence. . ."

"But that's exactly what I don't get," Yellow said before she caught the words that slipped from her mouth. Bill turned to her, surprised, but Red — even as much as he and Yellow were embarrassed, she had to admit she didn't expect this of him — didn't, like he knew. That . . . oddly made Yellow's heart sink. . . She even had to force herself to go on. "How the hell can Kyogre travel . . . through _time_? If it's that close —"

"I think I haven't told you everything yet," said Bill, and he forced a nice smile, or what might have been a grimace, in Yellow's tart opinion. "You may have noticed, but whether or not Mirage Island's physically in the same space and time in Hoenn, the island's still ubiquitous — but that doesn't mean anyone can trespass. Quite the contrary, this is the same reason why no one at all can trespass."

"I'm not following," Yellow said, her brain thawing. Bill let out a laugh feebly. It was then Yellow noticed that her _clothes_ were right next to where Bill was sitting. _Damn_. . . So close.

"I don't blame you. Well, technically speaking, it's like Mirage Island is still floating above the island — and on top of Mt. Pyre, which is near Lilycove. Its interim lingers from another space . . . but, like I said, Mirage Island's lost in time."

"That's what I don't get," Yellow whined, exasperated. "It's lost in time, right? And it's banished to another space!"

"Exactly," said Red, speaking for the first time. His tone was rougher than earlier, and Yellow feared that it might've been his harsh mood, and absently thought instead that the reason would most probably be the fact that he hasn't used his voice for a long while, and that it was starting to lose its value or something. The answer is in the question, Yellow snorted, how ironic. "Think about it — it's like you're saving your place in a line. You'd have to come back eventually."

Yellow stared at the both of them with her lips parted, and she didn't care whether she looked evidently confused. Her mind was working overdrive, trying to process what Bill and Red were saying.

"But — okay, now I get it. . ." Yellow added as an afterthought, though something inside her was saying she might be overlooking some questions. "Could you think of any reason why Green's run off like that?"

"Only one, and I'm pretty sure I'm right," said Bill, pulling his eyebrows so low they almost met his nose. Yellow somehow already knew the answer, but she had no idea why she'd asked. In front of her, Red gave a gulp. "Green's sensed Kyogre not a distance from Mirage Island, and the Blue Jewel inside him must've gone ballistic — I could remember him clutching his palm, and his veins could be seen. It must've taken a lot of effort to hold the jewel. . ."

Just then, Yellow had a sudden thought: Green, Red and Bill talked about this earlier in Bill's office, but she wondered why Bill hasn't brought the subject up. She looked curiously at Red, and realised she couldn't hide her puzzlement any longer.

"Red's still composed," Yellow observed, and by hearing his own name Red turned to her — as though his expression had softened. Bill didn't look; in fact, he was deeply thinking. Before one of them had to open their mouth, however, the lights went off again for a split second — "Oh ***t!" — "Not again!" Yellow moaned — and came back on, followed by another temporary darkness that lasted a few milliseconds before the lights were all right. Red and Yellow exchanged anxious looks, then turned to look at Bill, whose gaze was still fixed upon the floor as though no power-shortage just happened.

"There's also a problem, though," Bill finally said, breaking the moment's silence. "Time's going out of whack in Mirage Island ever since the two Jewels inside Red and Green began reacting to the presence of Groudon and Kyogre."

"Wait, what are you saying?" Yellow said quickly, her eyes widening — she would not spend her lifetime in this vile place. If time in Mirage Island's become slower, then. . .

"We're gonna arrive at our destination a bit quicker than expected," Red said, sighing.

"What destination? The Northern part of Hoenn?" Yellow said, her heart skipping. Bill hung his head, and then he looked at Yellow.

"Looks like we're gonna take a visit to the guardians of Mt. Pyre," Bill breathed, grimacing. Something not unlike a tiny flame of a candle lit up inside Yellow's head, as though the word had a ring to it. They talked about that place a lot. . . Yellow wondered what made it so special.

"What're we gonna do there? Guardians? What for?"

"It isn't coincidental we've gotta get there," Red said, getting up. Yellow had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. She thought about what Red said when he passed her, then she had a feeling someone was looking at her: Yellow looked up just in time to see Bill raise his eyebrows sceptically at her, and she can't help but notice the apparent red streak across his face.

"What?" she said, embarrassment flushing all over her. Then Yellow remembered — oh, crap. She's wearing nothing but her _towel_. "Can you hand me my clothes?"

That was the stupidest thing she had to say, but she had to keep it cool — damn this blushing. She's gonna find who invented blushing in the first place and strike him with a machete. Bill was looking at her with his eyebrows raised, his eyes bulged, and his mouth quite hung open. Even if he didn't do anything, Yellow wanted to beat the living crap out of Bill. At least when he moved, he still stared at her, and looked as though he were in a trance.

Dammit.

Just hand over the frigging clothes!

Rigid and immobile as a sitting duck, he slowly extended his hand and gave Yellow her clothes, expression unchanged.

"Thanks," she muttered flatly, then got up and, half-forgetting she was wearing only a towel, scowled while walking away, heading toward the bathroom, when she heard Bill let out a girly scream.

* * *

><p>"So what about we find Green, eh?" Yellow said gleefully, walking out of the bathroom with her arms outstretched. She found Red staring at the rain, leaning against the threshold in deep thought — whereas Bill sat on the bed good-naturedly, and this time, his hair seemed to be a bit drier than earlier. Wearing these clothes made Yellow feel a bit comfy, and at least they weren't as tight as the damn Huckleberry Finn suit, Yellow reminded herself scornfully. Her hair had been a slight mess earlier, having not combed it after the shower, and now she's tied it up into a nice ponytail underneath her straw hat.<p>

"Green's whereabouts is currently unknown," Red said at the far corner, still not breaking from his reverie. He was only ever really serious at some times, and those were the right times to be. Yellow, at the moment she heard this, purposely made herself solemn-looking: This was no time to smile. She gave Red's back a stiff nod, biting the back of her lower lip — then she remembered Red wasn't looking at her, so she managed an almost stifling "Yeah."

Bill, sitting on the bed, closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his thumbs against his temples — he too seemed to be thinking. Yellow felt strangely lonely knowing that the two of them were trying to think of a way to get out of a problem whereas she's got sawdust. "I've been thinking . . . since Kyogre's making the Blue Jewel respond to its distance between them, and Groudon is currently resting in its sleep, so that makes Red invulnerable and Green quite the opposite . . . though the island's gone out of whack in time and space — more than the usual. So maybe . . . according to my calculations — speed by velocity of Kyogre and the distance between the Jewel, I suppose — and then the normal solution to Mirage Island's appearance and disappearance — I'd say that we're gonna arrive at our destination —"

"A little earlier?" Yellow finished, her head nodding off before she snapped herself awake again. Bill looked at her, sighing.

"No," he said firmly, his eyes swimming with seriousness — he sounded angry, but Yellow didn't dare to think so. Again, the lights suddenly went off for a few milliseconds, and darkness once again shrouded them, but Yellow didn't have enough time to describe what happened then because before she could, the lights were back. She found herself looking at the lamp, and then averted it to look at Bill, whom she realised hadn't changed course of his gaze. "If you'd be so kind to give me time to finish my sentence, then you'd know."

"Sorry," mumbled Yellow. She glanced at the clock that hung on the wall absently. Bill's going to finish his sentence, and after, they'll find Green. "Go on."

"In a few hours," Bill said.

Yellow's eyes widened in shock. They'll have to find Green quick. For a few milliseconds there, Yellow thought she'd suddenly lost her heart. She didn't need to look at Red to find out his reaction: he's as still as a lamppost there.

"B-but that means he'll —"

"Save the talk for later," said Red, turning the lights off, and they were once again at the mercy of the darkness that shrouded in the entire room before a dim ray of moonlight crept in the door, taking the space. For a fraction of a second, nothing was there until a round red ball of light took lit up, and they were glowing menacingly bloody. "I don't wanna find out."

* * *

><p><em>Kyogre's here. . .<em>

Darkness. Everything was nothing — not a single light had access in this dark, dark room. It seemed like nothing could penetrate it. . . It was like being in a black hole. Nothing was here. Nor there — nothing at all: you couldn't know where you are in the darkness. You'll be everywhere, for all you can see: but the point is, the only thing you can see is _nothing_, as if that made any practical sense.

The only thing that accompanied darkness had to solitarily be the cool air.

Darkness makes you vulnerable. It makes you feel weak.

But darkness can also hide you. The advantage is, no one would know except you. The blackness of the room can help you avert your shame. Darkness can be your best friend . . . or your worst enemy. The only person to judge is you. It's a mask — a mask that makes you invisible. But it comes with lies. So many lies: so many secrets.

Darkness is almost similar to death: Death is a game everyone plays, whether you like it or not. Everything begins with death, and ends with it.

In the end, death always wins. You can never avoid it for long.

But death can't be so bad. There are compensations. . . You may hate death, you may be waiting for it patiently, if not intolerantly, but in the end, it's always there for you.

Death cloaks you in darkness. And then you see light. The quintessence is almost unattainable, and you can't ever believe you're seeing it . . . it's as if you're breathing again. You feel the blood rushing in your veins, and an adrenaline pumps inside you — you feel alive. You're not dead. . .

You're released, fresh and anew, out of the void you'd only ever seen so dark . . . you can feel — you can feel. . .

Something's fluttering above you, and you can't see what. . . You're immobile, and you can't see anything. . . But you can feel. . . The darkness in which encased you barred you from every beautiful thing. . . It's preventing you from looking around. . .

Everything is suddenly swirling: you could see faint lights appearing — they're starting to grow larger and larger — it's flashing in every colour — each of them are like windows: You could see something. Something blurred. . . And the darkness is going away . . . waning.

Gold could feel someone slapping his cheeks. He gave a soft groan of pain — what happened? Last he remembered, there'd been a huge tidal wave . . . and then he couldn't recall anything else . . . _except_ . . . flashes. White flashes. Pain was everywhere in Gold's body, and he couldn't move: everything felt numb. Hell, he could barely even lift his eyelids: he couldn't see who exactly had been slapping him awake.

His position may have looked pathetic to the slapper, and Gold couldn't have agreed more. He tried to move his fingers, and they, too, had the same doleful feeling. At least he could move his lips, although his teeth were of no use. The best he could do was stifle a groan. Nonetheless, he was glad he felt the pain: it's a sign that he's still alive.

But, dammit, why does it have to hurt so (Gold thought of a swearword here and shut his eyes tighter) bad?

The voice was ringing inside his ears, yet even his brain was still fuzzy to work — the voice sounded almost familiar — almost because he can't be too certain, not yet, having a brain that's not functioning properly so far — and it was sounding clearer by the second. The whole world seemed to be speeding up, and the voice was now so audible, he could hear the slapper — and Gold seriously regretted he'd woken up too early — swear at the top of his lungs: Gold's just thankful that he didn't hear how the first part of the sentence began, because he didn't want to know what his Uncle said.

"I'm awake," Gold mumbled, still keeping his eyes closed — mostly because he didn't want to see his uncle's expression. He's still numb all over, but it was far worse before. He gave a grunt when he managed to sit up with his legs crossed, massaging the back of his head agitatedly. But the weird thing is, the platform he was sitting on wasn't . . . straight. The land was sort of round a little to Gold's right, and he felt like he was in a container or something. There was this odd noise coming from the container, though, and it sounded like energy waves in Gold's opinion, having battled pokémon all his life.

"Where the fu —"

"_Gold_!"

"— are we?" Gold finished, unmoved by Uncle Wilton's reaction by his choice of language. His eyelids still hurt, so he's going to have to open them later: what's the bloody rush, anyway. . . Uncle Wilton sighed deeply, and Gold only had to guess that he massaged his temples in a frustrated way to prove that he was irritated by Gold. He's done it so many times before, Gold's kind of used to this thing. He seemed to be trapped in the container, too, come to think of it.

"Do you remember the last thing that happened in that island before you zonked out?" muttered Uncle Wilton, shaking his head.

"Think so," said Gold in a casual way, opening one eye and trying to take the water out of his ears, apparently unaware that the two of them were floating in a psychic barrier formed in a circular shape, containing them both . . . and absently looking at the dark clouds. Hey, were they moving?

"Kyogre arrived," Uncle Wilton said under his breath, and Gold's memories flashed back at once. There was this huge tidal wave . . . and then he told Celebi to save them. . . So what happened to Barty? "That monster was huge. It looked about the size of the island, didn't it? Barty's done it this time. . ."

"Barty. . . That bastard," Gold said, opening both his eyes and shaking his head to forget that old man's stupid face. "I can't see how he controls the thing when he doesn't possess the damn Jewel."

"But can't you hear him?" said Uncle Wilton mysteriously, looking at his nephew. Gold turned his back on him, blinking back tears. Stupid tears. What hear him? What'd that son of a bitch say? "He was whispering. It wasn't a language human use."

"Yeah, I thought there were snakes inside the hut for a second then," Gold recalled, biting his lower lip. How couldn't he forget? He always had an . . . irrational fear of snakes. An Ekans once crawled into his garden when he was six. He shuddered at the memory — what he must focus on was the memory of Barty's words. He was talking in another language . . . or messing up his tongue by hissing. Gold always thought that bleeder was a tad demented. "He's also not trimmed his nails this morning, I noticed."

"But what bothers me is how Barty managed to control Kyogre while he doesn't possess the Blue Jewel," said Uncle Wilton, thinking deeply. Truthfully, Gold had thought of that, but since he had an infamous reputation for being stupid and all, he'll just keep his smartness a secret. Barty must've been talking in a pokémon language. . . What else could it be? He was hissing . . . venomously.

He must've thought Gold and Uncle Wilton could understand him, but not one of them had a damn idea what he's talking.

Gold stared at . . . where he was staring. He was staring at — _what_? Was that the ocean? Where the hell were they? He could see a somewhat pinkish aura he was sitting on — this wasn't normal: he looked up and put one hand on the pink thing that contained them.

They were in some kind of orb — a pink one. He stared at the dark sky beyond the round pink roof and his eyes were far from shirking — on the contrary, they bulged, if you still hadn't figured that out — the rain seemed to be pouring down hard, and they couldn't get wet because of the circular container. This rain must be Kyogre's doing: its presence alone brings rain, Gold thought scathingly, watching the water build up torrents slowly and turning West — the torrents must have been following wherever Kyogre went, because Gold caught a glimpse of a whirlpool in the island.

They, Gold and his uncle, were protected inside a glass-like barrier that was psychically and mentally made to shelter them from the rain: this was undoubtedly a work of a Psychic-type pokémon. And Gold couldn't mistake it, they seemed to be moving — he turned to look at the direction he guessed they were headed and found a mountain between the cloudy sky and the sea of the horizon. They weren't near enough for Gold to see it clearly — and the rain and the protective pink glass sphere didn't help — although he was sure it was the mainland.

"We're inside a psychic barrier in the shape of a sphere," Gold managed, still staring straight at the mountain. He didn't think Uncle would reply to that absent comment, so he was surprised when his uncle said firmly, his arms crossed and still standing patiently, "I thought you'd have figured that out then."

Gold wanted to kick Uncle Wilton and swore under his breath — Uncle Wilton caught some curses as well as angry suggestions as to where Uncle Wilton would stick his fishing rod.

"Heard that," he said calmly, but he didn't need to apprehend his nephew.

Gold didn't say anything. Instead, he bit his tongue from swearing again. He squinted his eyes and found the black mountain grow larger and larger as they drew nearer.

"I take it Celebi made this," Gold said. And, as if he was expecting Celebi to be there, he glanced around, hoping to find a little green pokémon hovering in the air, and then he remembered it was raining.

"You're wondering where the pokémon is," Uncle Wilton guessed. Gold stayed quiet: he didn't want his uncle to find out that he's right about him too much. "As soon as the huge tidal wave swept passed us, it conjured a huge sphere that enclosed us immediately and teleported to our destination."

So they were moving.

"Our destination should be . . . ?"

Uncle Wilton nodded — Gold followed his uncle's gaze, and his heart nearly dropped. On closer inspection, the mountain was obviously not black: on the contrary, it was a pale colour of flesh.

"Mount Pyre."

* * *

><p>Searching for Green would be the top of Yellow's hard-to-do list. Seriously. That was above "convince Gold to study," and that should be hardest. It was so dark out — the cool breeze always swept by, and Yellow was glad she was wearing a turtle neck shirt under another shirt: it was already cold wearing it, so what if she wasn't? She almost thought she was in the dorm again, wearing nothing but a towel and with the heater off, and the same darkness wasn't an exception.<p>

She'd never been to a hell that was as freezing as this.

Yellow only had to grope in the dark, following Red's floating red eyes and holding on to Bill's shirt just to not get lost in the trail. How Red would know how to find Green in the darkness, she had an idea as full as Viridian Forest in the winter. He could see in the dark, yeah, so maybe he could see the blood Green left. Sometimes within the last half hour, Yellow felt like she'd stepped into a small murky puddle that she'd guessed were — she found it harder to gulp thinking this — Green's trail of blood.

She wasn't even sure they were inside a forest, anyway. In any case, she was also sure Bill was as nervous and clueless as she was right now: he didn't touch a single orb, didn't have any special powers, and he definitely wasn't up for walking in the dark with two kids in a hunt for another one that's gone deranged like a monster.

Several times right now, Yellow could hear someone whispering in her ear, and Green's voice kept ringing inside her mind. She tried to shake it all off, but they keep coming back. Another breeze blew by, and she shivered.

The wind howled: and she could swear that Green's voices kept whispering inside her all at once, more loudly this time.

_Run. . . Run. . . It's here. . ._

And behind all the whispering, Yellow could hear a trace of something hissing word after word. This was going to make her lose her concentration. . .

Red gave a grunt in the front.

"What's wrong?" Bill asked, unfazed. Yellow looked in the direction of their only source of light: Red was resisting the urge to close his eyes, because the pain must've been overwhelming. The three of them stopped in their tracks, two-third of the three watching the third carefully.

"You probably can't hear it," muttered Red, massaging his temples most likely, trying to maintain his balance from collapsing. Was it Yellow's imagination, or did Red talk mostly to Bill than the both of her? Yellow was almost sure, so certain, that Red can hear the voices too. Right now, they'd stopped. Unbeknownst to her because of the darkness, comprehension and understanding dawned on Bill's face.

"Oh," he said flatly. Since Red's eyes bobbed up and down, Yellow can only conclude he nodded.

"Let's continue walking," Red mumbled, looking at the front, "Green's pretty close."

Close . . . no wonder the whispering stopped.

Yellow tightened her grip on Bill's shoulder as they all began to walk again. She could've sworn she heard him wince, but she didn't bring the subject up.

This went on for countless minutes — and that's when Red stopped walking. He looked like a dog who just scented a rabbit. Yellow and Bill came to a halt, too, and they looked questionably at Red.

"Red?" Yellow squeaked, blinking a lot. When he didn't respond, she lunged herself forward, but she was blown back because Bill put his arm in front of her and she was left, standing, gaping, to watch as Red's head revolved, as though his neck hurt: he squared his shoulders and stood a bit straight.

They heard him panting: slow intake of breath, as though Red were timing his breathing. Then, much to Yellow's horror, she heard an ear-piercing noise of teeth gnashing against each other, followed by Red — she'd recognise the sound anywhere — seizing handfuls of his hair like he was deranged.

"Red! Red! Control your anger! Discipline your mind! You're more than that!" Yellow shrieked at the top of her lungs. She wanted to escape from Bill's grasp, but she was so fixed on Red, she only struggled from Bill's grip.

And, as if something worse couldn't possibly happen, Red ran deeper into Ample Plains — Yellow finally got free of Bill ("No!") and went after him, following his heart-breaking screams.

"Red! RED! COME BACK HERE, YOU IDIOT!" she shouted, sprinting after him, pushing forward branches of elf palm trees, jumping over several rocks. "I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU!"

She had to catch up with him — she had to — he can't just _run_ — not without _her_ — stupid left feet — must catch up — can't let her _slow_ running . . . get . . . to — her — must get to him — DAMN IT!

Red seemed to be a million miles away — damn this — she was always the slowest — she can't even catch up to Red — but she got close enough to see Red, glistening with _blood_, his bandages coming off again — he stripped them off: he was scratching and biting himself again, making his wounds go deeper — but Yellow saw a glint of blood-scarlet . . . like he seemed to be _glowing_. She wasn't going to lose him again.

She felt her boots on the sand — they were now on the shore — and, hearing a last, ear-splitting cry of agony, Yellow watched her friend _jump_ into the darkness. She stopped, not feeling her brain anymore. When she got to the shoreline, there wasn't any water: just an island below Mirage Island.

. . .

"Pyre," Gold whispered, his breathing fast. "Pyre, pyre, pyre. . . That means fire, doesn't it?"

"Yes it does," Uncle Wilton said coolly. He didn't move his eyes away from the peak of the high mountain, thinking that climbing it won't be much of a good idea. It looked pretty steep, but he'd heard about Lilycove's cemetery being in that mountain itself. As if Gold had been reading his uncle's mind, he stood up — cautiously, because he was unable to maintain his poise in the unbalanced surface of the sphere — and said shakily, "Celebi doesn't expect us to climb that thing, does it?"

"Perhaps not," said Uncle Wilton, more to himself than to Gold. Gold oddly felt a slight tinge of loneliness. They were right in front of the entrance to the dark mountain, and it seemed that the mountain was the island itself — it must be connected to the mainland, or else with that much weight, this'll sink. Sure enough, when Gold leaned a bit, he saw a thicket of bushes and trees not a few hundred yards from the foot of the mountain at the other side.

Gold's mouth was dry when he said, "What're we gonna do, then?"

This was probably the only time in his life Gold relied on someone for something to do. Usually — er, normally — he'd do something stupid like climb on Mantine or something, injured or not. Maybe losing his cousin changed him a bit.

"Go inside — there'll probably be stairs, anyway," Uncle Wilton carelessly muttered, trying to see if his foot would go through the psychic barrier, leaving a dumbfounded Gold inside the sphere.

"S-_stairs_?" Gold spluttered, scrambling after his uncle, who went inside the cavern, his voice drowning in the rain. "Uncle Wilton! Even _I'm_ not that stupid! You can't find _stairs_ in a mountain!"

His uncle didn't answer, and Gold just expected that — he jumped from the sphere without hearing another silence and, not looking back to see the sphere pop, he sprinted after Uncle Wilton.

"Crap," he swore, feeling his ankle sting like mad — it was throbbing right now, and he can't run any faster: just his stupid luck, the cave seemed to be darker and deeper than he'd expected. What'd his uncle think, running round a cave? Hell, Gold thought, grunting in pain and slumping in the dark, not believing it, Uncle Wilton even thought they'd find a _staircase_ here.

The only sound aside from his grunting and his constant footsteps, had been the rain pounding outside, and the wind howling so loud, he'd have thought it was someone wailing — and if he was right, the deeper he staggered into the mountain's cave, it was possibly getting _colder_: how the hell was it supposed to be cold inside a cave when it was raining like hell outside?

"Uncle Wilton!" Gold called, and his voice echoed. He stopped, cursing, and shook his head a bit. His uncle must've been long gone by now. The odd thing was, there were no signs of pokémon living inside, Gold noticed. The realization can't possibly be missed. There must be something weird inside this mountain, thought Gold, squinting his eyes — he glanced around, as if suspecting every small rock to be the culprit of a deadly crime: but all he could see was darkness.

He kept whirling around to find the entrance to the cave he entered to make it his exit, but he found not the faintest light from where he was. The sound of the rain couldn't be heard anymore, which was pretty bad — Gold managed to maintain his slow breathing, but there was something inside him that was begging to die — and death seemed to be a pretty good option right now — which only meant that, with the sound of rain gone, he couldn't pinpoint where the entrance was, and he can't find where he was supposed to go, because in the darkness, he'd forgotten in which direction he was supposed to turn to.

Panic swelled inside him.

This was bad, very, very bad.

He was lost — stupidly lost, in fact, Gold kept reminding himself — he'd forgotten where he was supposed to go because he kept looking back for the exit. This was the most pathetic situation Gold turned himself in.

It seemed like Uncle Wilton's voice was a million miles away, and that Gold was stuck in a stupid cavern without knowing where he'd gone and where he was supposed to go.

Then he remembered: his pokémon. Gold's eyes widened and he groped in the darkness for his waist: of course, he'd momentarily forgotten he had pokémon. . .

"Oh damn!"

He felt his way through his belt and didn't feel any circular capsules attached to them, and that was always bad news: His pokémon, of course, he'd left them in Uncle Wilton's care. . . Oh shit, he was so stupid.

Right now, everything seemed to be very wrong. It's as though with one wrong step, he was going to his death.

Then he heard a voice from a distance — had the situation been under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have thought it was of an angel's — and he turned to the direction it resonated from, and he was surprised to find a shockingly bright light over there, blocking his eyes with his arms over them ("_What sorcery is this_?" Gold demanded a bit loudly.) "Gold, you idiot, I thought I told you to follow me!"

"Uncle Wilton!" Gold exclaimed, his eyes tight shut: he wasn't that stupid to open them when a blinding light was in front. His cry came out like a groan in his uncle's opinion, but it was the effing best Gold could do in his state. Come to think of it, he kind of looked like an idiot, after all — he knelt on the ground with both his arms over his eyes and had an injured leg, screaming like a madman. So as to spare his shame, he tried to stand up and only hardly managed to keep himself from massaging his scraped knees.

"What the hell are you doing there?"

"L-light — where's that coming from?" Gold asked, opening his eyes a little: his uncle's silhouette appeared and he made his way to it, hiding his limped condition. Finally, when he made it, he felt his shoes step on ground that made an echoing sound in the bright cavern when walked on. It was the kind of ground that was smooth and slippery, and Gold almost doubted whether he really still was in a cave.

"You can open your eyes now," said Uncle Wilton patiently, and even so, Gold couldn't believe he'd thought he was an angel. He slowly opened his eyes, half-expecting a narrow path before him and an electric pokémon that lighted the cave a bit — but he was shocked —

"A c-_cemetery_?" Gold stuttered.

He looked at the surroundings: everything was a vivid white, and the place gave him an aura that he, too, had not lived anymore — a huge spiral staircase was standing stiff at the corner of the room — cave — tunnel — whatever — and it looked like it had to be treaded about a hundred — even Gold couldn't believe it — steps: the ceiling was high above the ground, and the smoke from candles swirled at the ceiling, leaving every space 7 feet above the ground undeterred by the smoke rising.

There were white stone pavements that rose from the marble floor, and each of them had their very own names: Gold, interested, found the nearest one and read:

TIMMY

Beneath it had been a carved art of a Poochyena.

May you rest in peace

Your Loving Family

This was . . . making Gold feel slightly . . . sad. He had never once thought that pokémon could die in their first stage, leaving them old in age but innocent in form. . . He'd never felt so empty in his entire life.

"There's a cemetery in this place," said Uncle Wilton, as though it were obvious — idiot. How could a cemetery inside a _mountain_ be obvious? Right now, Gold was sure he was the one who looked like the idiot when Uncle Wilton said they'd ascend the staircase inside.

"But why a mountain?" asked Gold, wondering — there could be a million places in Lilycove to put up a graveyard: why a mountain? Isn't it going to explode? Like hell: the name of the mountain itself implies _fire_.

"It may be the most peaceful place here in Lilycove, what with the department stores and the contest halls and the dock and all the crap they put up," Uncle Wilton said, his tone rising a bit too loudly: there was a soft hissing from the corner made by someone who'd evidently wanted to silence Uncle Wilton — for a second there, Gold thought it had been — his excuse was, if they wanted to be alert, then suspecting every little thing would be dangerous — Barty, that's why he glanced: but because he was so focused on the surroundings, it hadn't occurred to him that this place'd be public.

Uncle Wilton got the message and bit his lip, thinking of a really lame excuse to the old lady kneeling in front of a grave, who looked as though she was halfway to put down her flowers.

"S-sorry, Ma'am," he said, shuffling his feet. He'd never been good with old people, Gold knew, because he didn't know where else he'd inherited that thing from.

"Why'd Celebi want us to be _here_?" Gold demanded. Then comprehension dawned on his face. Uncle Wilton nodded slowly. "The scene from the past. . ."

"Yes," Uncle Wilton said, looking up at the staircase. "That's exactly why Celebi made us come here."

"We're not gonna find the Jewels here, that's for sure," Gold grumbled. Uncle Wilton looked at him.

"Nope," said Uncle Wilton, his eyes swimming with deep understanding. "The Jewels are in Mirage Island. I figure that if Kyogre's been awakened, then doesn't that mean the possessor of the Jewels — at least just the Blue one — is still alive?"

"Then that means. . ." Gold said, putting a lot of emphasis on the last word — unfortunately, he didn't get an idea what his uncle had been hinting him. Then every word Barty had said echoed inside his mind's ear, and everything made sense. "Ah! The old man said that there were girls appearing in Lilycove mysteriously over the past several years every few months! And that memory. . ."

"It showed Daisy," said Uncle Wilton, nodding. He'd been keeping his voice unnaturally quiet the whole while — probably because he was scared of the old lady — but it was so hoarse Gold cringed when spit landed on his face. "I think that if Daisy survived, survived _the_ Mirage Island —"

"I could still ask her out!" Gold said excitedly, half-shouting. Uncle Wilton's face fell, and he looked at his nephew in incredulity. Gold realized something more, and said, half-sheepishly, "Oh, right, and find more about Mirage Island and get Yellow."

"Celebi's most probably at the summit of Mt. Pyre," Uncle Wilton said indifferently, craning his almost-not-seen neck to look at the ceiling. "Maybe it led us here to show us Daisy. . ."

"Yeah," said Gold absently — he was more on thinking how they plan to solve everything. Then he remembered: he slowly dug his hand into his pocket and prayed that he'd feel a crumple of paper. . . It's the answer to everything. If only he could find the missing —

A scream reverberated throughout the entire mountain, and Gold and Uncle Wilton looked at each other — then they glanced at the old lady kneeling down the lonely corner, half-expecting a pokémon attacking her, who seemed to have not heard the scream — and, apparently, it didn't come from her either — she mustn't have heard it because she was sort of deaf or something — but Uncle Wilton couldn't understand how she could have heard him — and it didn't matter, either way, because someone was hurriedly treading down the steps of the staircase, pausing to look at the old woman, and she evidently didn't think the old lady can help her, and finally, she made her way towards the two of them, her brown hair looking windswept across her face.

"Please! You must help us! There's an injured young man at the peak of the mountain!" she said, half-panting. There was almost a familiar note to her accent. . . When she yanked a few strands of hair jerkily from her face, Gold and Uncle Wilton's eyes widened and they got a shock — she had _emerald-green_ eyes. Without looking each other, nor having the power to read minds, they both knew what they were thinking already: could this be . . . ?

"Y-young man?" Uncle Wilton repeated, still shocked.

"Yes, and he's badly injured!" the girl said desperately. Gold was too shocked in a state to even open his mouth.

"We'll help," Uncle Wilton offered. And the woman led them to ascend up the stairs in a fast manner — they've got no time to lose: this young man may be from Mirage Island, no doubt.

* * *

><p>After 5 flights of staircases, over a thousand steps to tread, and about 6 floors, they'd finally made it to the summit of Mount Pyre. Surprisingly, the peak was natural compared to the cemetery built in the mountain: grasses and leaves everywhere — even the view was spectacular.<p>

Gold found out that the rain had stopped, but the skies were still cloudy: when he took one last step from the stairs, the first thing he came on contact was a puddle of mud.

He looked around: his uncle followed, and then the green-eyed brunette — and he found out that the place was like a shrine, a temple: had there not been rain a few minutes ago, the torches would've been lit, and it'd give this place a true sensation of being in a holy place.

Gold followed the two and ignored his ankle's pains, and the fact that they were walking on mud. At the centre of the peak, there were two identical shrines built by solid rock to shelter something — and Gold didn't want to figure out yet. Two people kneeled in front of each other — the other a bald old man, and the other an aged old lady — both of whom seemed to be treating a third person who'd been laid on the grass: and it only took Gold a few steps to see clearly that the third person was bloody.

Uncle Wilton and the young woman knelt down as well, whereas Gold stood, paralysed. The boy had raven-black hair that seemed to be damp with — Gold's stomach did a somersault — blood, and looked as though it was messier than it already once had been: his entire physique was well-built, but scratches and bruises surrounded almost every part of him that his body couldn't be admired as before.

He already looked dead. His eyes were tightly shut, like he'd been fast asleep.

The old woman checked his temperature.

"He's cold," she said, as though nothing more were worrying. "Quick! Do you have some Water-Type pokémon? Some bandages? Anything!"

"I-I have bandages," Gold said, and he knelt down, not looking up, even, to unwrap his bandages of his injured ankle. It'll have to do, he thought, this kid needs it more than I do, older or not.

He gingerly gave it to the old man, didn't look at Uncle Wilton, who looked too distraught to notice.

And, by some miracle, the boy coughed just before the old man tried to wrap Gold's bandages around his head.

He groaned, and his eyelids were having trouble opening. Come to think of it, his jeans and shirt were torn up; Gold could barely see any of them because of the blood. . .

The five of them stopped moving, staring at the bloody boy in shock. He was mumbling in his state.

This went on for about thirty seconds until Gold, with a jolt, made out what the boy mumbled, and he was sure Uncle Wilton heard that, too.

"Yellow. . ."


	32. Red Meets Gold

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Yeah! It's summer vacation! Hey, everybody! Guess what? On 6**__**th**__** May, I'll go to SINGAPORE! **_

**YELLOW: **_**That's wonderful! Aren't you going to bring us along, if it's no trouble?**_

**ME: **_**Of course! I'll try my best to bring back souvenirs, too ^-^ I'll look for inspiration in continuing Mirage Island Vacation there. We'll go fishing, do stunts — everything!**_

**RED: **_**What? That's so COOL! Hey, did you do anything lately to your Pokémon Deluge account?**_

**ME: **_**Hmm? Stygian-Scythe? I'm still OVER THE MOON because my friend gave me a REGIGIGAS /./**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

**XXX: **_**There. You. Go. AGAIN! It's like you know everything on my mind O.O Oh, and I'd finished Spirit Tracks and the Phantom Hourglass, but I'm deciding whether or not to buy the Wind Waker. It's amazing. Oh, would you like cupcakes?**_

**SplitHeart1120: **_**Haha XD I guess you don't talk too much. Can't be helped. Have a pizza slice!**_

**MOFZ19: **_**You seem really excited! I am, too XD Have a cake! Oh, yeah, they won't meet Yellow until later, just so you know ^~^**_

**ME: **_**Sorry for the story! I didn't exactly explain the shippings here. Slightly GoldxDaisy, but mostly DaisyxBill. But this story is about SPECIALSHIPPING! Oh, and I'm really sorry for being so hard on my own gender =P Mirage Island is so sexist, even for me. I think it's too not thought out. Gee, I'm pretty embarrassed now . **_

**YELLOW: **_**Hey, I think you've done a pretty good job making the characters OUT of character!**_

**ME: **_**I know! Hey, in this chapter, there's a little hate between Gold and Red. . . Yeah, I'm not gonna press my luck ^~^ I'm so good in making characters out of character. Hey, PM me if you don't understand the ending of the chapter, because I'll gladly explain *o***_

**31****ST ****CHAPTER: RED MEETS GOLD**

**LOG EIGHTEEN**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY — MIRAGE ISLAND**

**8:03 AM; SAME DAY — MT PYRE**

**Y**ellow stared at the edge of the island that used to be the shoreline — but now it isn't — and watched, horrified, kneeling on the sand, trembling — Red had just _jumped off Mirage Island_. . . And she didn't do anything to stop the idiot. . .

He wanted to get out of Mirage Island so badly — but Yellow could only guess that wasn't the case. Red had gone ballistic: he was scratching and biting himself — he even stripped of Yellow's bandages. . . This wasn't normal — but by all odds, this was the most normal thing that happened to Yellow since she was brought up in Mirage Island.

Right now, though: this was everything all over again — Mirage Island was floating psychically above the North-western part of Hoenn: Lilycove. . . Naturally, this phenomenon was going to happen every once in three-and-a-half months — but space was so messed up and time was, too, because of the presence of Kyogre not a distance away from Mirage Island. . .

Her head was swirling: she couldn't think straight, and Yellow caught herself staring at the same spot, at the same void where Red had stupidly jumped from: there was an island . . . a bigger one. And it had a mountain — it was stark white: it was raining. . . Kyogre was nearby — but this didn't look anything like the island at the coast of Pacifidlog — there wasn't the tower — if there was, Red wouldn't've survived. . .

Yellow wanted to jump back into the North-western part of Hoenn, but the odds of her surviving would be astronomical — although there was something inside her, screaming: she knew Red would survive that fall . . . but with his sanity. She wasn't sure how he was going to land safely what with Red not able to control his own self due to the possession of the Red Jewel. . .

She hesitated, staring at the end of the sandy Cliffside that was once the shoreline; her imagination went _mental_: suddenly, everything below Mirage Island had looked so far away in Yellow's vision, and there was an increasingly numbing headache that struck pain like lightning inside her head. Yellow may be hallucinating, and her mind was suddenly constructing a scene — she collapsed on the sand, trying to maintain her breathing: what was going on . . . ?

Everything inside her was exploding like crazy — she even had to seize a handful of grains of sands to keep herself stable and controlled: but nothing — the pain was overwhelming — it was taking over her — but she had to get to Red — she had to let him know he'd jumped off a cliff — had to let him know . . . had to let him know how much Yellow —

Her trembling hand slowly crawled to the edge of the once-shoreline where you can see neither ocean nor sea ahead — where was Bill, anyway? Yellow had the feeling that Bill ran away scared. . . Where was the idiot?

Her thoughts were discriminated by a sudden shaking — her brain was going fuzzy — she can't get any help right now. . . Maybe, by some miracle, Bill's found Green and left Yellow. . . Red was gone —

"Aaaaah," she groaned.

Everything was leaving her —

She couldn't see anything —

She can't breathe —

Yellow's internal organs overworked too much at the moment — she's got to find Red. . . She can't be left like this —

Yellow lifted her head a bit — inside, everything was spinning and she can't even control her brain enough to focus on what she wanted to see: her brain purposely blocked her sight my flashing unnecessary lights — she was going to white out, she knew it — but she didn't know why her body wasn't functioning as she wanted it to, or why she was going to white out —

Through the lights her brain made, she can still see, faintly, though, everything below Mirage Island — the mountain; the island; the trees; the clouds; Red — and the sea was forming again — this must mean one thing. . .

Mirage Island was banished once more. Red was gone. . .

These thoughts swirled absently inside Yellow's brain — then she lost it.

* * *

><p>"Yellow!"<p>

Uncle Wilton practically jumped from his hunched position, his eyes widened. Gold just stared — how'd this boy know his cousin's name? Did he — Gold's heart skipped a beat as he can't get himself to say the word — _do something _to Yellow?

"Yellow! Yellow, Gold! He knows Yellow!"

Daisy Oak — the green-eyed brunette — stared at Gold, who'd been too scared to look at anyone right now: his eyes were completely fixed upon the boy. The old lady seemed to disregard any of Gold and Uncle Wilton's exclamations and actions, as though they were just an unpleasant fly she's gotten used to hovering over her head. Gold blinked far too many times to actually see what he was gawking at: he was too busy thinking all this over.

The old lady, far from Gold's focus, had wiped the blood stains from the young man's face, revealing pale skin — when the rag had swept across his eyebrows, the boy's eyelids fluttered, but they won't open: and Gold saw it — his blood curdled — he could recall right now — from Celebi's memory — he saw that glint of red and one puzzle piece fit.

From what Gold could make out of the boy — due to the unbelievable amount of blood spilt — he had raven-black hair and pale skin — and he couldn't get this out of his mind: when the boy's eyelids fluttered for a brief moment — and that'd be a while enough — Gold would never doubt he did see a blood-scarlet shade of eye colour: this was the boy — the boy in the Infirmary — the boy who had red eyes: this was him — and the one with him had been — Gold's heart missed a beat and half-glanced at Daisy — Green Oak.

This was Red — the boy who'd touched the Red Jewel.

That must mean — he _was_ from Mirage Island, since he was the one who possessed the Jewel judging by Celebi's scene — and the manuscript had been right: the Jewels were still in Mirage Island — well, not at the moment, Gold thought gingerly, looking at the older boy's face, disgusted — and since he'd lost so much blood, he must've sensed —

Oh fu —

"He injured himself," the old man whispered. Gold lost his trail of thought and looked at the lot: everyone followed his gaze and, as the bearded old man hadn't been interested they'd all turned to him in the uncomfortable silence, he gestured the scratches and scars all over Red's body: Gold didn't want to look at _any_ of them. . . How could Red possibly injure himself?

The old man looked like he was on to something, Gold knew, because he paused for a moment, looking at a certain spot at Red's shoulder after scavenging for a clue: his squinted eyes widened after seeing something — Gold didn't know what — and he unexpectedly stripped Red's left torn sleeve, which was only held together by the thinnest row of thread to the shirt, revealing Red's bloody arm, _glowing_ scarlet — there was a pattern — an odd one — that was etched across his limb, glowing faintly — though the light it emitted had been faint, it wasn't exactly opaque even though it was splattered with blood.

The old woman let out a startled gasp, clutching her heart dramatically. Daisy, however, looked silent — but it looked as though she forced herself to bite her tongue, which was suspicious enough. . .

Gold and Uncle Wilton tried their best to not look as though they were missing something — and failed, obviously.

"He's been branded with the mark," whispered the old lady deadly. Gold blinked.

"What mark? What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded. Although he knew what that glowing pattern was, he can't bring himself to think it's right. . .

"This boy — he fell from the sky —"

"Not exactly the sky, Sweetheart," the old man croaked, and he raised his head to look at them all: Gold had enough to see that he looked almost exactly like a Politoed: his upper lip seemed to be dry, his beady eyes didn't seem to blink as often as normal eyes do, and he looked at one person without craning his neck, his eyes swivelling. "Have you noticed the change of weather?"

"Aah," the old lady gasped, falling to her knees once more, levelling her eye with her husband. "This is the time we've predicted — this boy — this pattern —"

"Mirage Island," Daisy whispered, biting her lower lip. Gold knew exactly why she was looking so anxious. Red — he fell from Mirage Island — Barty said that the island would be above the designated position it will appear once the time of Mirage Island and that of Hoenn will be the same — something must've happened that made Mirage Island's time go out of whack — it wasn't supposed to be appearing until a few more weeks —

But they were so goddamn _close_.

He and Uncle Wilton exchanged looks: Gold already knew what he was thinking — had they arrived earlier, they would have caught up with Yellow. . .

"If Mirage Island is this early, then does that mean. . ."

"No wonder the weather had been unpleasantly cold," said the old woman tragically, glancing at the surroundings, worried. "And we didn't notice!"

"Excuse me," said Uncle Wilton, raising a finger. "Do the both of you know Barty? Bartemius?"

Even though Uncle Wilton only registered to the old folks, Daisy had carelessly let her guard fall by looking extremely nervous and appalled, as though she was shocked that Uncle Wilton knew Barty's name. The old couple looked at Uncle Wilton with such uncertainty Gold was sure they thought Uncle Wilton was a suspect of a heinous crime.

"Barty?" the old man croaked. "He was our friend."

"Then that makes the two of you guardians of the Jewels," Gold murmured quietly, but audible enough for everyone to hear him.

The old lady clicked her tongue and shook her head. "We were. Until our grandchildren were born. We made Barty guard the Jewels for a while — then we found him unconscious on the ground."

She gestured at the stone stairs that had to be treaded 3 steps to get to the altar.

"He told us that a man stole the Jewels," said the old man, his dry lips quivering. "Then went off to the island off the coast of Pacifidlog to retrieve them. . . And he hasn't made contact since."

"Then you lot found Daisy," Gold said carelessly. Daisy looked at Gold, her eyes widened: the old couple turned pale — Uncle Wilton had to nudge Gold in the ribs to make himself comfortable, as though he was completely disagreeing with Gold. But Gold didn't feel any sheepishness to say her name.

"Have we met . . . ?" Daisy asked uncertainly, peering under Gold's face with her emerald-green eyes. Gold momentarily got lost in them and found himself cursing: _Damn it, she got prettier over the years_. And her British accent was too cute to resist.

"No, Celebi's showed us a scene from the past — in Mirage Island — or whatever — long story — it showed you — and there were others, like your brother — your grandfather — Professor Oak — abducted Green and they'd get to be in Mirage Island while you were visiting Barty in the island off the coast of Pacifidlog — you were left behind — and then you stayed with Barty for a few more weeks until Mirage Island was back—"

"Keep quiet!"

Unexpectedly, Daisy swooped down and covered Gold's mouth, looking aghast and troubled — Gold, however, found that they were so close to each other, and decided to enjoy the moment a bit than be shocked at what she was doing to him. "How did you know all that?"

"I already told you, it's Celebi!" Gold said, muffled. Daisy looked as though she couldn't believe it, and scowled almost uncharacteristically. Her breath brushed against Gold's fringe, and he caught the scent of vanilla.

"What business is Mirage Island to you?" she asked, a little lightly now.

"Well," said Gold, shuffling uncomfortably: it was best he'd tell her the truth. "My cousin got abducted by these blokes from Mirage Island. And we're here to rescue her."

Daisy looked as though she had the most unfortunate luck to have got caught up in Gold's situation, which was very similar to hers, and scoffed, but that seemed only because there were more truths in Gold's explanation than there had been any loopholes to secrets, and she'd only given up forcing herself to find any problem.

"So you know?" she asked, and Gold had the impression she already knew the answer, but was hoping they won't know about her.

"Everything," Uncle Wilton replied, nodding. The old couple looked at each other for a moment, exchanging looks, and ignored the three. They seemed to focus their undivided attention upon the bloody teen, tut-tut-tutting with their tongues clicking. They already knew of Daisy's reaction toward Mirage Island; this had happened about several years ago, but the memory still haunted them. They hadn't had someone from Mirage Island lately, and Red seemed to be the latest in months.

And how lucky were they when they found out that this very young man held the Jewel that controlled Mirage Island itself.

The old woman rubbed the cloth to wipe the grime and mud off Red's cold, pale face — the scratches and wounds had stopped bleeding, although the old lady couldn't just ignore the fact that they run too deep to not deserve any attention; that was then she'd realised.

She grabbed her husband's arm, shaking and catching her breath.

"Dear!" she gasped, and that caught the three's attention: the young boy who accompanied the middle-aged fisherman looked as though he'd just been interrupted explaining about his cousin, who'd apparently been a girl to have been kidnapped in Mirage Island — the old lady overheard — and had heard her cry. The old man looked at her, raising his thick white eyebrows, which narrowed down to the tips.

"What is it?" said her husband huskily, comically being shaken because his wife's hand, too, had been trembling.

Gold gulped, knowing for sure this wasn't going to be any good. He turned to look at his uncle's reaction, and he seemed to be listening to the old lady. Gold shrugged and guessed that if Daisy, too, had been listening, he should make a good impression.

"This boy — this pattern — it all makes sense!" she managed to say, and even her voice sounded shaky. Gold didn't try to think of what made sense to the old lady, but he couldn't help knowing it. "Bartemius told us of the location of Groudon — and what we predicted years ago —"

"It's happened," said the frail old man, mildly upset or aghast, much to Gold's surprise. "Just yesterday. The weather had been different, and there was an air of something coming."

"Of course it's happening," said Uncle Wilton, his hand gesturing at the horizon, where dark clouds touched the sea. "This boy — I think he's got a companion: and that's your brother, Green Oak."

He pointed directly at Daisy with his chubby finger, but his eyes were focusing on the old couple, menacing. Gold scowled at his uncle: Daisy's eyes were shadowed, and she looked close to crying despite Uncle Wilton was talking about Groudon. Such insolence — had they not been in a hurry, Gold would have hit his own uncle then and there. But then again, he was making a good impression on Daisy.

"Barty — he's your friend, right? — had told us that Groudon's in Mirage Island — but my question is: why has Kyogre awakened, when Barty has no possession whatsoever of the Blue Jewel at the moment?" demanded Uncle Wilton. Gold knew that the couple didn't need to hide anything from them right now — not when they already know so much. Their faces were very determined, as though they read each other's thoughts, discussing mentally whether they should trust them enough to answer their questions.

The old man opened his weak mouth to speak, but Daisy cut in, surprising both Uncle Wilton and Gold, "You can trust them."

The old man squinted his eyes — which seemed to have caused no effect whatsoever, as his skin was so wrinkled, it was literally drooping, covering most of his eyes, which kinda freaked Gold out a bit — and seemed to be thinking whether or not he should count on Daisy's judgement: this gave Gold the impression that they'd relied Daisy to think things through for them, having been in Mirage Island once.

"Fine," sighed the old man. He looked at Red pitifully for a bit, then cleared his throat to explain things through — again, Gold thought vision was impeccably impossible through that thick of skin, and was unexpectedly amazed when the codger turned to look directly at Uncle Wilton.

He shouldn't have to underestimate old men again. . . He remembered Barty suddenly, and shuddered.

"Bartemius had told us — or was it the other way around, dear?" he turned to ask for the help of his wife, who was wiping Red's face tenderly. But Uncle Wilton was a tad impatient.

"That's not important, sir!" he said.

"Yes — yes, oh very well. . . Whoever told who that Groudon was located at the island that disappears, and reappears — the land that's lost in time — the isle that's banished from space — Mirage Island.

"That was over . . . I don't know, fifty years ago, I think? Oh, yes, _yes_, right to the story," the old man fussed good-temperedly, seeing as Uncle Wilton opened his mouth to retort. "That was around the same time as old Barty took an interest in the island. We were supposed to take care of our grandchildren. . ."

"Then-Barty-let-someone-in-and-the-thief-stole-the-Jewels-he-was-protecting-and-when-you-came-back-he-promised-to-get-them-back-for-you-which-resulted-to-his-staying-in-the-island-off-the-coast-of-Pacifidlog-and-he-met-Professor-Oak-the-first-time-after-a-while —"

Gold got hit by a rock, cutting him by a few sentences short. He exhaled mud when he landed on the muddy ground, and choked. "What was that for?"

"That is no way to talk to your elder!" said the old man, who was in a bending position, and Gold saw, with a flinch, he was holding a rock.

"That was Grandfather's first visit," Daisy said, leading them back to the conversation. "Grandpa was gone when my brother —" — Gold thought she cringed and didn't think she'd continue then — "— when my brother was born at the time. I was nine-years-old then. . ."

"Didn't Professor Oak get a second visit? The one that involved you and Gr — your brother?" Uncle Wilton was wise enough to not use Green's name, and Gold was impressed he got the message. Daisy nodded.

"Yes. But when he returned home, he seemed to be too dug up in his work. . . Three years after, Grandpa said we could go to a trip — a rather short one — a vacation. . . And that lead us to Mister Barty."

Gold desperately tried to ignore the fact that Professor Oak reminded him of Uncle Wilton when they were told to go on a vacation in Slateport that ended up to be a survival game in Mirage Island for Yellow.

"That was when Grandfather decided to leave. . ."

Daisy looked as though she was choking back tears, and was looking at the ground, too embarrassed, it seemed, to let them see her crying. Gold swiftly came to her, holding her hands, which surprised her.

"Don't worry, Daisy," he said, soothing her. Daisy's eyes were swimming with tears — and confusion Gold disregarded. "I'm here for you."

"I'm — sorry," she said, closing her eyes and returning Gold's hands, unbothered. "I'm not seeing anybody who rebels like punks."

Gold staggered to the ground, his heart breaking. _Not seeing anybody who rebels like . . . punks?_

Beside him, Uncle Wilton gave a chortle.

"Go on, Daisy, continue. He's just having those mood swings. He always hits on girls," Uncle Wilton explained somewhat cheerfully, patting Gold on the back, who was weeping with his eyes wide open.

"Y-yes. . . My brother had left with him . . . perhaps being extorted to leave — without me." Her tone was slightly off, and they couldn't blame her: she'd been through a lot. Still, she forced herself to proceed.

"Mister Barty said that the island comes by usually, whenever the weather's worst. After several months. . . So I gave up 7 months of my life just to wait for them again. . . When Mirage Island finally showed, however, I was determined not to lose an opportunity. . ." Daisy's eyes glowed with reminiscence, as though she were picturing what happened nearly 14 years before perfectly. "I climbed up the stairs of the Sky Pillar . . . and it was awfully painful. When I got there, I found a blistering gust of sand, and I zonked out."

She blushed, her eyes widened — it seemed as if she recalled something she took so long and took too much effort to forget, and she shook her head, avoiding her brain's topic of that very memory. Uncle Wilton's face hardened. There was something suspicious about Daisy's explanation: it was like there was an almost cautious air to her, like she was careful to not give out any obvious details.

"I found out that, over my grandfather's reign, he made Mirage Island an absurd town that abducts women — just to boost up the economy of that wretched place — they'd already built buildings in a surprisingly fast period of time — but there, time is seven times it is here. . ."

"We get that," Uncle Wilton interrupted. "Just to be clear. Go on, proceed."

Undeterred absolutely, Daisy nodded, closing her eyes to keep the tears from flowing.

"I — managed to escape." She caught herself a bit too quickly, it was too obvious to miss it. Uncle Wilton knew (he ignored his nephew crying harder, making his shirt wet) that the subject she'd been avoiding was none other than the very boy she'd given her life and soul to, the very boy who was her only friend in that hellhole, the very boy who saved her from Mirage Island, Bill. Uncle Wilton knew why: the scene showed Daisy heartbroken. Bill pushed her off the island just so she'd be safe.

"I could remember the day she landed here — just over there," the old lady said. Typical of old ladies to start telling a story in the middle of an investigation. She pointed a spot a little over to the left of Red, sighing. "Ahh, memories."

"S-so, that's it?" Uncle Wilton spluttered, letting go of Gold. He hit the ground again, but he was too busy crying to notice. Daisy nodded, like she expected Wilton to react to this.

"Then there was this time," the old man suddenly said — they'd momentarily forgotten he was still there — and no wonder he looked so impatient, "a while after Daisy dropped by here and we took care of her. . . A time that we'd sensed the coming of Groudon and Kyogre. . ."

"The chimes were telling us," said the frail old lady. Uncle Wilton looked at her stupidly.

"The Chimecho, my dear! Psychic-types!"

"Y-you mean . . . pokémon?" said Uncle Wilton — then he received a whacking on the head, the pain throbbing.

"With brains like yours, you could be one yourself!" huffed the old lady. Uncle Wilton resisted the urge to strangle her. If he wanted answers, he should respect. Damn it, he was becoming like Gold. Count to ten, Wilton, he always told himself. All together. . . One. . . Two. . .

"You told me to look at the horizon, I could remember," whispered Daisy, her expression unchanged.

"Nothing happened, strangely enough," mused the old lady, reliving the memory.

Something inside Uncle Wilton snapped, and his left eye twitched: he bit his tongue from saying a comment that went like, _As if you expected you were right_. . .

"The chimes — they gave us a vision of massive destruction — waves sinking cities — lava erupting from the ground — claiming lives of innocent souls uninvolved. . . The fruit of an anticipated mistake," said the old man weakly, shaking. He looked at the boy on the ground, who hadn't given any signs of life since he'd uttered the name of Wilton's niece.

Something cold ran down Wilton's spine followed by a wave of regret, and a splash of fear.

"Excuse me, but —"

"Another question, it seems," said the old lady haughtily — and Uncle Wilton was reminded of Yellow's friend from school, Blue. The old lady cackled like a maniac and blood boiled inside Uncle Wilton. "Wait for us to finish, why don't you?"

"I —"

"And yet what you prophesised had been proved true," said Daisy, interrupting. Uncle Wilton flushed, half-mad, then began counting again, crossing his arms and scowling at the sneering old lady. "But it only happened now."

"Finished?" said Uncle Wilton impatiently. When no one answered, he moved on. "This young boy uttered my missing niece's name. Care to explain?"

They went silent for a while. Then Gold stirred on his lap.

"H-he musta ran into her or something. . ." he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "When this boy wakes up, I'd like to beat the remaining living sh —"

"Gold! Language!" exclaimed his uncle. Despite his voice was a hundred times louder this time, since he shouted at Gold's ear, it had absolutely no effect on him.

"— outta him. Who knows? Maybe _he_ is the one who took Yellow's purity!"

Gold stood, almost clumsily, but he maintained his poise, glaring down at the young man with such rage that the old couple winced next to Red.

"Know what? Why should we wait? I'd beat him up right now —"

"You can't!"

Gold looked down. Daisy was glaring.

His expression immediately softened, even he didn't understand why.

"How come?"

Daisy looked apprehensive. It didn't take all of Gold's detective skills to figure out that she was thinking that Red may have saved Yellow as Bill had her. His breath slowed and his temper cooled.

"Okay, I get it." He sat, sighing. Daisy raised her head, looking at his expression: her emerald-green eyes pierced right through Gold it was almost intimidating. He gave her a look that she understood to mean, "I'll-explain-later."

"That still doesn't answer my question," said Uncle Wilton, huffing. "Barty doesn't have the Jewel! How can he control Kyogre to wake up?"

Something gave a grunt between Uncle Wilton and the couple that drove them from each other's anger and conversation. Then they were surprised to see that Red had choked himself awake. His eyes were still closed, but he was going to open them —

Brilliant red.

Everyone was in too much a shock to even gasp — the old lady scooted closer to her husband, whilst he slung a wrinkly arm around her protectively.

Red tried to sit up, but his wounds made sure to not let him — his shirt and jacket were only held together by a thin combination of threads: holes were seen everywhere, but the blood was too much spilt they can't be so certain. It was hard to believe that Red had actually scratched himself to this. His body looked weak, and had to force himself to just breathe — the poor boy can't even string two words together in his condition.

He revealed his teeth: Gold was sure they were pearly white before he bit himself scratches — right now, they were bloody.

Gold's bandage was wrapped around his head: that stopped the bleeding, but it looked horrible. His hair was so matted with blood, too.

The pattern glowing on his left arm had stopped radiating luminescent-scarlet. . .

"Hi. . ." he coughed. Red didn't even seem to be able to smile. It might kill him. The pain looked too overwhelming. But he was trying his best to act casual. Though it's hard to disregard his state. "You must be Yellow's family. . ."

Gold stared.

"How'd you know?" said Uncle Wilton, his eyes wide.

He nodded at the old couple.

"Yellow said her family were composed of two —"

Then he reached out for the old lady's hand.

"Hello — you must be Yellow's grandmother —"

Everybody exploded.

That idiot —

"IDIOT! SHE DOESN'T HAVE A GRANDMOTHER!"

"WHAT'D YOU DO TO HER?"

"I'm not connected to that girl in any way!"

Red seemed pleasantly fine with being shouted, as though the retard was used to it. He merely looked as though he was fuzzed and squinted to keep his vision from going blurry.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry," he mumbled feebly, looking as though he was going to pass out again — the old lady looked as though she might do something to help, but Red unexpectedly managed to maintain his balance. He gave a chuckle. Then sadness and flatness dawned on his face, replacing his jolly, good-natured look. "But — disaster — Mirage Island — they need me. . ."

"What?" said Gold. Uncle Wilton groaned beside him. He disregarded that. He'd guess he was upset his nephew was being so rude to an injured person. Screw logic. "What disaster? How do you know my cousin?"

Red's expression hardened — and by a flash, for the first time in several seconds Gold had known him, he'd found Red very threatening. Then something he saw bothered him for a moment, though he couldn't pinpoint what. Did he — were his eyes . . . ? No, Gold could've imagined it. Gold would've considered himself lucky that Red was injured and all, because Red looked like a bloke who'd never pull back a punch. For a second, Gold tried to back away, because Red made a sudden movement toward him, but he calmed himself down, closing his eyes.

"I've detected a presence. . . A presence in Mirage Island."

"How could you do that?" blurted out Gold. He knew this would make Red mad, and he did it on purpose. Red clenched his fists, containing his anger — wasn't it lame of him to bare his teeth? Gold reminded himself that only Red — he silently agreed to himself and swore never to repeat this thought out loud — and _only_ Red could look good baring his teeth when mad.

"You see this mark?" said Red, though Gold wasn't certain he could contain his anger for long . . . not around Gold, at least. He wanted to say he didn't see the mark to piss the bloke off, but then he took note of how muscular he looked and Gold wasn't stupid enough to not guess he was strong. Gold just raised his eyebrows lazily and bit back a torment as Red pointed at his bloody arm, where the pattern was.

Gold could see the old lady had mopped the blood from Red with the cloth she was holding, and that may be the reason why Red's pattern was clear. All the blood made it opaque enough to be seen unless it had been glowing.

"I see it," said Gold. He was tempted to taunt Red, but he was strong enough to resist it. "That's the pattern of those who'd touched the Orbs."

"Specifically, the Red Orb," said Red, looking down. "It's a curse, actually: you carry the Red Jewel, and you lose your mind."

Gold had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from taking advantage of Red's explanation — to be more accurate, the part where he said 'lose your mind.'

"You could detect the presence of the Big Three," the old man whispered thoughtfully. Red looked too exhausted to nod.

"Yep. It drives Green and me crazy," he said. Daisy stirred. It took her a moment's notice to find her voice.

"You know my brother?" she croaked, shocked. Red leaned: but he caught himself quick and lied down again.

"I knew his cousin, too," Red mused, cracking a smile. An eruption of blood occurred inside Gold. He wanted to throttle him, beat him — what'd he do to Yellow? Who was this idiot to her? But Red already seemed to have been beaten up himself.

"What were you to Yellow?" asked Uncle Wilton. Gold looked at his uncle: he looked like he was fighting the urge to shake Red as well. Beside Gold, he was shaking — ballistic. "How is she? Is she-?"

"She's perfectly fine," said Red airily: that didn't seem to be too reassuring, Gold concluded. "And as an answer to your anticipated next question, no, no one's touched her and she's still a virgin."

Gold reacted too fast to be stopped — he stood up within less than a second — the old couple scrambled out of the way, covering themselves — he pulled back his fist to increase power — he gave out a loud cry ("DIE, YOU #$*!") — Gold aimed, giving it all he's got — how dare he — this Red was nothing more than a dirty, rotten, underhanded — Uncle Wilton gave a loud shout behind —

But Red was faster than _all_, even in his frail condition. He moved carefully to the left at the speed of light — Gold's punch missed by 6 inches — 2 seconds have elapsed — Gold didn't even have enough time to give a gasp — he was astounded — he only had a while for his brain to express surprise and wonder how Red did that — but for Red, it was a long enough time to guess that Gold, who was already leaning his body and, in slow-motion, had already been a few feet off the ground, would attack back — so Red seized the opportunity to use his nimble fingers —

With both his hands' middle and index fingers, he nipped Gold's jacket with his right — a few milliseconds after the first two seconds had elapsed — and the end of Gold's jacket with the left — then, summoning his remaining strength, he had Gold in his grasp and sent him hitting the muddy ground.

All within a time limit of 3 seconds.

Gold breathed, clutching his chest. He was shaking — he heard Uncle Wilton cry out his name, and footsteps coming toward him. He gave a grunt — crap. Red was, without a doubt, good. Gold wiped the mud off his mouth, and looked at Red. Had he not been knocked out, he would've still fought with Red. But he could already find that Red was too good a fighter. Red was smiling: but not as though he'd won a fight at all, but as though he was welcoming. A smirk would've been less annoying to Gold. . .

"Please don't take the word 'virgin' badly," he said. "And it's true — I've done my best to keep her from getting into my troubles. But she can be . . . persuasive."

"How did you —"

"Do that?" said Red, mildly disturbed. Hot blood boiled inside Gold. "We've been trained for combat — Green and I. But it's not like we don't already have them for our nature."

"So if you possess the Jewels," said Daisy, like she realised something. "You get combat skills?"

"Not exactly," said Red. "I get combat skills. Green got the cooler ones, like he reads minds or something. . ."

"And you get battle reflexes," Uncle Wilton breathed, looking at Gold. Gold stuck out his tongue at him.

Then Red's face darkened, like he remembered something.

"Yellow and I'd been finding Green," he said. "He lost it, he has. I guess Kyogre was too close in a distance for him to handle. But I see that the weather Kyogre brought in made an effect to Mirage Island that made it appear here."

"But you sensed Groudon," said Gold. "You don't know? Groudon's living under Mirage Island! No, it's IN Mirage Island itself!"

Red's eyes widened.

"How'd you—"

Gold gave a noise that sounded like a cat. He dug deep in his pockets —

The manuscript he'd stolen from Barty's place. It was still the same. He didn't know how that big a book could fit in his pocket, but, well. . .

"Gold. . ." said Uncle Wilton. "You didn't snatch —"

"What does it matter?" Gold snapped. He scanned the pages — there it was. The page of a crude sketch of Groudon under the earth of Mirage Island. He showed it to Red, who looked appalled, and flattened the pages neatly.

"Barty himself drew this. It says all the research Barty conducted about Mirage Island. It says Groudon himself breathes in Mirage Island's earth."

The old lady gasped. They turned to her.

"Could it be . . . ? Groudon has sensed its nemesis and is about to waken!"

"Yellow's in danger!" Uncle Wilton shouted. "We've got to do something!"

Gold scowled — Uncle Wilton had turned to him, and Gold hated himself for thinking that the best solution for the problem would be. . . He looked at Red, who knew what he was thinking. Or, at least, Gold thought he knew Red knew what he himself was thinking. He hated logic. But Yellow, his cousin, needed him.

"Yellow's always thought of herself as a burden," Gold whispered, remembering the memory suddenly. "She said she always stays away from people — she always was like that. Everybody didn't like her for who she was, and what she was."

Red stared. Then his eyes flashed, Gold saw at the corner of his eye.

"At Mirage Island," Red began, and Gold forced himself not to be angry that he'd interrupted, "Yellow said that she wasn't who I thought she was — and she was right. She's something more."

Uncle Wilton raised both his thick eyebrows — Gold could've thought there was something buzzing in his ears. He replayed Red's words in his head in the silence. Yellow said she wasn't who Red thought she was — she was something more. . . Something more. . . And then something heavy hit him.

"You're _hitting_ on her!" Gold exclaimed, standing up once more: he nearly slipped in the mud and something stung in his ankle — it was still throbbing. He turned to look at Uncle Wilton, who merely looked peaceful. Gold wasn't in the condition to fight — pretty pathetic — and so he looked at his uncle for help: _clobber him_!

Red raised his eyebrows as they did. Then he moved his eyes toward Gold's own wound. "Hitting? What? No, at least, it's the other way around. Her slap's made its mark."

"Stop kidding!" yelled Gold. That idiot. "Yellow doesn't slap! So tell me, what were you to her?"

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear, to be honest," chuckled Red. Had Red not touched the Red Jewel, Gold pondered, glaring at the smiling youth in front of him by mere metres away in such contempt he could've pierced right through if Red wasn't so impervious, he would've made a calm, cheerful kid. The boy's got a split-personality. "I'm Yellow's friend. Nice to meet you!"

"More specific, please, Mister Obvious!"

Gold wasn't tormenting anymore with his crude names — on the contrary, he was being serious. Red, however, was keeping his cool that this was the thing that mocked Gold. He just wanted to wipe that jolly, idiotic face. . . That face.

"I meant what I've said, though," said Red carefully.

"What do you mean by, something more?" cried out Daisy. Gold almost glanced at her, but he shouldn't, because Red was finally making sense. Or, at least, was starting to make sense. Daisy had kept herself so quiet the whole while, Gold wondered whether it was because Red was friends with her missing brother, Green.

"She's apparently thinking she's innocent, and she's unaware of what she is," Red murmured — using a tone so dark and mysterious that it didn't match his smiling face: this Red sure seemed to be so skilled with using his mask, a mask that concealed his true expression. He could've been joking, for all they knew. "But I wonder if Bill'll ever tell her what I'd told him."

Bill —

Gold finally gave in to temptation and glanced at Daisy: she was shaking now.

"I don't know who Barty is," breathed Red, looking like he might pass out again. "But Green's told me all about him. I was never good with detective stuff — but I'm not stupid."

He dug deep in his pockets, and then he revealed a burnt parchment, and then, dusting it gingerly, he unfolded it and — Gold's heart missed a beat —

"Barty's the one behind all this," Red said, the loudest voice he could use. "He's the player of this chess game — and, apparently, he uses pawns to sacrifice. Quite brilliant, he is. Groudon's obviously the King: but the one with the highest rank of all is the player. He protects Groudon so he could use it later.

"A Queen in chess is the one with the most powers," Red went on, and Gold's heart pulsed. He knew where this was going. "The player could benefit from it — but it has to be sacrificed in the end to protect the King."

The parchment had shown a sketch of a sphere, and Rayquaza was part of it. Gold could barely read the writings, due to the distance and the fact that it seemed to have been wet and had the words running, but he knew full well what it had meant.

Yellow — how'd she come in touch with the Jewel that controls Rayquaza?

"Notice the missing page from Barty's manuscript?" Red wasn't sneering. "This is it. Green's snatched it from Barty's manuscript and kept it to himself — he gave it to me, obviously, but that was years ago. Green didn't study it much, because he'd have known Yellow was Barty's Queen in standby — and we're losing the game."


	33. Custodian

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Oh God, what've I done to myself? Q_Q**_

**GOLD: **_**You're such a retard you don't even know yourself anymore!**_

**ME: **_**I'm not a retard and I'm completely obsessed with KAGAMINE LEN! /./**_

**GOLD: **_**Len? Isn't he like, one of those Pukaloids? **_

**ME: **_**(GLARES) Idiot, they're VOCALOIDS.**_

**RED:**_** Gold, it's like YOU'RE the retard here.**_

**GOLD: **_**What the hell?**_

**ME: **_**I know, but my fangirlism inside makes me support the shipping of his mirror-image-twin-sister-lover-friend-whatever-the-heck-you-want-Rin-to-be Kagamine Rin T-T I'm so happy. . .**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

**XXX: **_**Dude, I'm so sorry /./ I can't believe I've been so careless! I was in SUCH a hurry! I'm truly, really, sorry T_T It goes to show how really clumsy I am Q-Q Can you forgive me if I give you a chocolate marble? They're really good. Oh, I think everything'd be answered in this chapter. You know, you're a really good guesser O.O There's a new pokémon game called, Pokémon Conquest, and I've been FLIPPING waiting for it to be released. **_

**SplitHeart1120: **_**Oh FUDGE! I stupidly repeated my review to you! Ugh! I hate this. . . I'm really very sorry! Accept my cake, please! (BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW)**_

**ME: **_**I'm officially out of my mind!**_

**YELLOW: **_**What makes you say that?**_

**ME: **_**Lazy people tend to turn absolutely crazy *-* Oh, and this chapter's rated for its language — extreme language, I might add — due to Gold's potty mouth. And I found the *'s really annoying, since it's giving this story a little . . . immature style of language - I'm cool like that.**_

**GOLD: **_**I don't give a —**_

**YELLOW: **_**BEEP!**_

**GOLD: **_**And I don't have —**_

**YELLOW: **_**BEEP!**_

**GOLD: **_**In my mouth.**_

**ME: **_**Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but I changed my English used in this story to UK, not US, so realize becomes realise and pedophile becomes paedophile, okay? ^^ Oh, and you've been WARNED by the language. The language is REALLY for adults, and I promise you I have never used such language in my LIFE orally. **_

**DISCLAIMER**

_**I OWN NOTHING BUT MY OC's,**_

_**BARTY AND FECKER**_

**32****ND ****CHAPTER: CUSTODIAN**

**LOG NINETEEN**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY — MIRAGE ISLAND — COORDINATES: UNDEFINED**

**8:41 AM; SAME DAY — MT PYRE**

"**Y**ellow!"

Bill pushed a shrub out of the way and lifted his foot to proceed in the path — he hated walking in dense woods, especially when he didn't even know where he was going to find what he was looking for. He'd developed scratches everywhere: his two companions and himself were looking for someone else, and then the two of them suddenly run off, leaving him finding three people.

Just what Bill needed.

"Yellow! Ah — stupid shrub. . ."

For all he knew, Red was out somewhere rampaging and he might as well have swum in the ocean — just great. Yellow had chased off to find him, and what'd she think, Bill'd follow? Damn wrong she was there. Bill was _wet_, he was _scratched_, and he thought he heard some predator lurking nearby and waiting to pounce at the right moment.

Had Bill been lucky, that so-called predator would be Green, who'd most likely kill Bill, too.

Go to Mirage Island, they _said_, Bill thought maniacally as he angrily kicked a rock and yanked another branch out of the way, have _fun_, they said.

"Fun my a —"

He thought he stepped on something — his foot was sinking a few inches to the ground, and Bill knew he was already at the shore.

But nothing was there — the waves had crashed unpleasantly on the huge rocks, and nothing but the airy atmosphere greeted him — and, as an afterthought, silence. Nothing even illuminated the area — being in Mirage Island, stargazing is absolutely non-existent. It was banished — therefore, nothing could possibly light up the darkness except the moon: the lovely, lovely moon. Yet right now, Bill hated the moon — it didn't reveal anything: and that was the truth. It revealed nothing and light was practically useless, for nothing has changed.

So where were Yellow and Red?

"Red? Yellow?" Bill thought his friends might hear him from here — yeah, right. He looked at the ground for clues: oh God. . .

Bill bent over, the sea breeze sweeping — his hair was dishevelled more than ever, but now wasn't the time to worry. He stretched out his hand and used his two flexible fingers to examine the dark, liquid substance spilt on the sand, which had now absorbed it — it felt warm, and he could guess it was Red's blood. He'd been here — and Bill vaguely imagined Red _did_ swim in the ocean. But nothing's at the end of the ocean — it was Mirage Island, after all. Just mist —

And Bill's heart suddenly leapt out of his mouth — the thought had appeared inside his mind so abruptly, he thought his conclusion had been reckless. But the evidence was too much to ignore, and Bill couldn't think of anything else — could it be that, while Bill was off biting the dust, the time in Mirage Island _did_ coincide with Hoenn's, and Mirage Island appeared again above a designated area?

And, for all the misfortune in the world, it was then that Red had jumped off — jumped off Mirage Island, which was in an elevation of 1000 feet above sea level . . . ?

He could die.

He could've been dead. By now.

Oh God, Bill thought, staggering to the ground — that was a thought. . . Red couldn't have survived the fall — that deluded idiot — he'd have died falling flat on the ground or drowning. Bill's bones were suddenly like jelly, and his heart was now a bomb about to tick explosion every heartbeat — his brain swelled in pain —

He'd failed to keep Red safe — he'd failed to keep Green from going on a rampage — he'd failed to watch Yellow under his eye —

The sand was warm with the blood spilt — the white, sandy beach was spilt with red, and the shouts of the boy lingered in the wind, echoing painfully. The boy he'd failed to protect.

Bill felt his heart skip a beat — then his eyes glowed scarlet as well — he'd know: Red was still alive — the blood in his veins had been telling him. He drew his breath; closing his eyes, he let himself into the dark void inside his body — and soon enough, the only thing he could hear had been his heartbeat. He and Red were one. He was destined with him ever since he'd touched the Jewel. . .

He could remember that day —

"_You want me to _what_?" Bill exclaimed loudly, standing up from Professor Oak's chair. His hands were gripped tightly on the handles of the said chair, and he could feel himself shaking. _

_Professor Oak was standing — even though his comfortable chair had been occupied the entire time, from when he'd summoned Bill to come to his office to now — and he avoided any eye contact with the young boy. Bill supposed it was for the best, anyway — because when Professor Oak's head jerked to turn to him a bit, his eyes struck Bill with such detestation Bill could feel himself flinch. _

_The old man's eyes were so filled with darkness and evilness, Bill staggered to his seat again, weak in the knees. _

"_I told you," said Professor Oak slowly — he averted his eyes again, back to the window that reached the ceiling of the room so that it illuminated the place, "I need you to protect Red."_

"_By — by — by selling every fibre of my _being_?" _

_Bill could hardly believe it. _

"_Remember, Bill," Professor Oak continued, "You'd sworn an oath. You've come to Mirage Island to do my wills."_

"_That was before I knew you were going to kidnap innocent girls!" Bill said — then, he flinched when he realised what he just said: he blew himself away, he was so sure. Professor Oak's shoulders squared, and, a little too late, Bill covered his mouth with both his hands. _

"_You — you did that?"_

_At first, Bill wanted to rip his own tongue from his throat and shove it to the door — he felt critically ashamed that his 'little secret' had leaked out to the exact person he was keeping it from. He didn't' want to respond to that, since he'd guessed Professor Oak already knew the answer, but then again, a small part of him told him to lie instead, but he shook that off — he'd kept too many secrets that they already seemed to be lies. So honesty would work out great in this situation. _

"_Y-yes." Bill tried — and evidently failed — to not sound as scared as he truly was._

"_There was a girl — you were supposed to be the one to kidnap that girl, weren't you?" Professor Oak's voice shook. "She didn't escape — she didn't slip from your grasp. . . She was still here, wasn't she. . . Until the next appearance —"_

"_She didn't need to be imprisoned!" said Bill, shaking in his seat as well. He was so angry: he didn't understand how Oak could be so evil. He didn't know he was standing until he slammed his fist on the table. "She has her right — she was too young — Dai —"_

_Again, Bill caught himself — too late. Professor Oak wheeled around — in one swift movement, he leaned over the table and grabbed Bill by the shoulders._

"_So it's true, then? That girl was my granddaughter!"_

"Daisy," Bill whispered, opening his eyes. The waves crashed down the shore — it was more peaceful that it had been. . . During his time lost in the woods, he hadn't noticed that Mirage Island was already rematerializing above North-eastern Hoenn. "I hurt you — I can't hurt Red, too. . ."

That was the day. . . The day Professor Oak made Bill be Red's secret guardian — the only way for someone to be a secret guardian was to make some arrangements with the said person who'd touched the Jewel — Bill could vividly remember it, but he could never forget Red's reaction when Bill unbuttoned his shirt for the pattern on his arm and got the wrong idea.

Ah, children.

Red was still alive — and awake, Bill was sure.

But something more worrying struck Bill immediately —

A dreadful scream.

A scream he knew to be Yellow's.

* * *

><p>"That's the missing page from the manuscript!" Gold cried, his teeth gritted — how'd the idiot get that?<p>

Red smiled wearily, and clutched the burnt page like a lifeline. He couldn't divert his eyes from it: it showed a sketch of a long-tailed dragon creature, and it was drawn rather raggedly. But however untidy it was, the sketch was accurate — and from what anyone could make out of it was as clear as crystal. There was a compass drawn in the middle, where a naked human figure was standing spread-eagled, whose explicit features had been drawn with marks that made it illegible to make out, and a sphere inside its body.

Red's head tilted to the side, and he sat on an upright position — Gold decided to make deals with him when Red pointed directly at Daisy Oak, who seemed surprised to have been directly focused. The old lady unexpectedly gasped: Gold couldn't blame her, though: Red's arm was still as bloody as ever, but somehow, Red didn't seem to mind.

Just how tough is this bloke. . .

"I know you," he breathed in a gleeful tone, which made Gold flinch: his state didn't match his state of mind, he guessed. Daisy seemed to already know what Red was even going to say, because she was trembling. "I'm your brother's friend. You look a lot like him."

"Is — is Green alright?"

Red looked as though he tried to regain his composure — or like he wanted to throw the hell up. Uncle Wilton raised an eyebrow dubiously.

Red didn't want to say this out loud, and his reaction might've given everything away. He cleared his throat awkwardly and ran his fingers through his hair — ugh, what? It was wet with blood? Ah, Red felt the scar that ran across his head and tried his best not to puke at the thought of how deep it was cut. . . The tip of his tongue felt its way in Red's own mouth and found his canine — fang — sharp tooth — whatever. It vaguely reminded him of Yellow — painfully, he might add — she nicknamed his sharp pearly white 'the Drill,' on account of how Mirage Island always codenames stuff. She can be playful when she wanted, Red guessed. . .

He nearly forgot that his hand was still in his hair until he heard Gold clear his throat. _Loudly_. Damn idiot.

That pedobear's been staring out in space for quite a while now, and there was an apparent blush across his face that bothered Gold. _Somehow_.

"Green's lost his mind and he ran into the forest and we can't find him — Mirage Island suddenly hovered above this mountain and I think I'd gone mad, too, come to think about it — whether or not it's because I sensed Groudon or Kyogre or even Rayquaza, I don't wanna know — and I fell 300 feet from the island and landed here face-down. Oh, yeah, I think your cousin followed me into the woods of Ample Plains. . . She looked far from peaceful."

The simple bluntness in his tone alone made Gold dumbfounded — that, or his stupid relaxed tone that made his statement almost as though it were a discussion with coffee. Daisy's face blanched: Green was psycho. . .

"Screw you, man. You're really fu —"

"GOLD! Red, I believe you owe us an explanation," said Uncle Wilton slowly. Gold showed Red his middle finger, but Red seemed untainted. He merely raised his eyebrows — that boy. . .

Suddenly, Gold was growing more and more intimidated of Red's jolly side — he'll give you any answer that he thinks is the truth . . . so long as you ask. He may be hiding something, for all they knew. Red's sneer grew more and more menacing — to Gold, actually — and he said, in an equally friendly voice, "Shoot — tell me what you wanna know."

"When —"

Uncle Wilton put a hand over Daisy's mouth — Gold knew exactly why. Red is a person who you should never — _ever_ — with a fucking capital _N_ — underestimate. They'd have to choose their questions carefully. The old lady, whom Gold and Uncle Wilton both had guessed seemed to contain a lot of questions in her mind, having been silent for a while, so they thought to give the old woman a chance: age is wisdom, after all. . .

"Though you may wanna hurry up," Red said in a loud voice, turning his gaze away from them. This surprised all of the five who were thinking intently on what to ask to the said person. He'd just turned serious. "Mirage Island's already in South-eastern Hoenn by now. . ."

The atmosphere just got even tenser. Red may have been trolling them in the inside, but his expression was too solemnly sullen to not notice — he looked serious.

"I just have a question," said Daisy shyly. "Who's our enemy here? And what bad things are happening?"

"What kind of —"

Gold repeated the question in his mind. It was a simple, obvious question to answer — though it's been ignored the whole time. It's obvious Barty's the bad guy here. . . And the fate of Hoenn is in their hands — earthquakes, droughts, tsunamis. . . But when he thought deeply of it, who _was_ Barty? He looked intently upon Daisy, resting his eyes on her expression. She truly was the daughter of Professor Oak. The Professor Oak.

"Aha." Red was sounding amused, which kinda annoyed Gold. A lot. "Finally got there, eh?"

"Shut up and answer the question, you bastard."

Red began to sit a little straighter. "Your first question — who's the enemy. That's real simple. But a little overlooked, ain't it?

"These polite people look like they know him." Red's eyes lingered on the couple. And there was an odd air to it — it could be a pair of anyone of the five: even though it was quite obvious, Gold still thought there was a trace of Red not wanting to be too direct. No one would want to miss that if they thought Red was suspicious. The frail old woman sighed.

"Barty," the old man said in the place of his wife. Red raised his eyebrows. Then he turned to Gold and Uncle Wilton, a little blood trickling down his forehead, which made his smile look a lot more like a creepy look than a comforting one. . . But Gold doubted Red himself noticed or did this on purpose.

Red was like one of those people who don't intentionally attempt to scare someone.

"Bartemious." Those words escaped Red's mouth like venom — he wanted to say it right away or they'll just burn inside his mouth. Beside Gold, he felt Daisy shudder. Apparently, Red noticed, but didn't give any signs.

"You two came from the island where Sky Pillar was, am I right?"

Damn, this frigging idiot was good.

"Did you happen to meet . . . Barty?"

Uncle Wilton nodded vigorously — but prejudice still boiled inside Gold's stomach like lava, and a grudge he held like a lifeline: thinking of that horrid paedophile only made him want to slit imaginary-Barty's throat then and there. His blood would be worth it. Gold only just realised it, but he was shaking — like a sick dog.

_Damn it, Gold! Stop acting like a frigging ass! It's rude to not answer!_

Ah, Gold's conscience kicked in. How lovely as hell. His conscience was what annoyed him the most — you know, most people have consciences, but Gold named his _Fecker_. And Fecker kept stalking him around like flies stick to crap.

_That was a disgusting simile. _

I know, right?

_Get your ass back to Earth! Hello? Gold lacking oxygen?_

You're so fucked up.

_Just answer the question._

"We don't have to worry about the old bleeder now," said Gold, acting upon Fecker, his stalking conscience. "He's out cold, and I guess got caught in the tsunami that follows Kyogre everywhere. . ."

"He's _what_?" Daisy's accent went to its highest pitch, and it rung inside Gold's ears like an echo.

"Never mind, I'll explain later."

"So I see Kyogre's already reached there," said Red, pondering.

"Aren't we, like, wasting time here, Mister Friend of Yellow?" Uncle Wilton demanded hotly, hatred and deep dislike dripping from his tone.

"Wait till I answer Daisy's last question," Red snapped in an equally crabby tone. "What'll happen if we don't mess Barty's plans, though?"

Earthquakes.

Tornados.

Volcano eruptions.

Tsunamis.

Death of all humans.

Hell.

God's wrath itself for playing god.

This situation oddly reminded Gold of Jurassic Park — raping girls and having male babies and stuff. . . Making a civilisation full of sexists. . . And it's illegal, and the law doesn't even know about it.

Well, this is a piece of shit: Gold's starting to fucking sound like Chris.

But, he supposed, Yellow _was_ his cousin, so he never knew he'd sound so demanding.

Red looked as though he were thinking.

"Dunno. But I don't wanna find out," said Red sheepishly. He was acting like a _kid_. A KID. Gold wondered whether Yellow's presence around him changed him somehow. . .

"The end of the world," the old lady whispered hoarsely — was she HYPERVENTILATING? "I could foresee the future. . ."

Being with the Chimecho must've given her and her husband the ability to see past time and stuff.

"So I suppose I'll answer your next question —"

"Did Barty's brother die in the explosion?"

Red blinked. So did Daisy. The old couple looked confused and lost. Uncle Wilton flinched right next to him, remembering it, too.

For once, Gold didn't regret doing an action. He was rash, true, but he always regretted his decisions in making such reckless ideas, except now. He'd seen the past — Barty had been _jealous_ of Professor Oak, he knew. Because he had a family. Daisy would know this.

He looked at Daisy, "Daisy, Celebi — the time-travelling pokémon — showed us a memory of the past about yourself, your grandfather and Barty —"

"And Green Oak, your brother," Uncle Wilton added.

"And — I don't know whether or not you remember — it was fourteen years ago, after all — but Green and you were fighting over candy — Professor Oak told you to stop — and then Barty said your grandpa was lucky to have family —"

"He . . . what?"

Red looked shocked, appalled, and above all else, aghast.

"It's all true!" Uncle Wilton pressed on. "And Barty told us his brother was the one who stole the Jewels before, and then he attracted the three legends, which caused a strange collision between the three weathers each pokémon brought along — and the island his brother was in had been separated from the time and space — and the Jewels, I guessed, were found by you —" — Gold pointed at the old couple — "— and then you made Barty guard them and then were stolen by Professor Oak!"

"B-but —"

"Dearie," implored the old lady, her wrinkled hands caressing his young face like a grandmother would a grandson — her face showed sincere concern. "We know our Barty — we were friends. . . but he didn't have a brother."

"W-what?" exclaimed Gold, and Uncle Wilton got blown backwards by the truth.

"But it's true! He himself told us!"

"Son," said the old man, frowning: his eyebrow tips shot upward and creases wrinkled his forehead. "He didn't have a brother at all . . ."

"B-Barty," said the old woman, shaking, "Barty had a _sister_. . ."

* * *

><p>Yellow woke up with a start, sweaty and cold — and surrounded by darkness.<p>

Of course, she didn't even know what happened before. . . She knew she did something while she was knocked out, because she can't feel any of her limbs: but if she moved them, then the only feeling she'd get was _pain_, but at least she knew she was still in one piece.

Yellow can't see anything in the darkness, but she was certain she herself was bruised, cut, and had just stopped bleeding. And only one thought came to her mind.

_What happened?_

Her head was so sore; and the only body parts she could move without wincing were her eyelids. Well, that was pretty useless, seeing as darkness was surrounding her.

She gave a groan — was this what happens after you drink? Not saying that she did, but hangovers sounded a lot like how Yellow was feeling right now. . .

She must've been very red with blood right now —

_Red_.

He'd fallen off a cliff. A _CLIFF_. A FUCKING CLIFF AND SHE DOUBTED HE'D SURVIVED.

"I must look like hell right now," she muttered to herself. But Red must've looked worse if he survived the fall.

No, he _will_ survive — what happened, though? No negative thoughts, no negative thoughts. . . Why the pessimism, though? She must've hit her head _hard_.

She still can't manage to lift herself up, and that's a little pathetic, even for her. Red needs her right now — wait, Kyogre was already at the island — Sky Pillar's Island — oh _shit_.

Where was Green? Where was _Red_? Even Yellow didn't know where she _herself_ was!

Bill must've had a handful. . . And that's saying something.

"Ugh, it's so dark," Yellow muttered, feeling her eyes squint involuntarily — which was obviously not needed as it already was too dark to begin with. Squinting won't make a damn difference.

Usually, it was beyond the rules to use pokémon in the grounds of , the school Red and Green were studying at. Which was also in Mirage Island. Yellow didn't really need to be so specific with herself, but she felt like she couldn't live without being definite about something right now.

She thought she heard something — or, even worse, some_one _— shuffle their feet. Yellow flinched and vowed herself to not move. Not the slightest: one small movement would cause her death — or even worse, punishment before death . . . or something.

Oh, this sucks. The person must've thought she was a real loony for talking to herself — considering, Yellow thought she was all alone — and right now, that same person would be the death of her. Or something.

"Oh, you're awake," said the voice. And it was too familiar to ignore.

"Bill!"

That sounded a little off, even for Yellow: her voice was hoarse, she only said one word, and it even didn't come out right (she sorta pronounced it as "Buh-ill.") That definitely wasn't beast of her. Not. Beast.

And beast girls are the best girls.

But either way, she was glad Bill was there.

"Bill! I don't know what the hell happened! Red jumped —"

"Nah, he's all right, I'm sure — he's being treated, apparently," said Bill in a thoughtful tone. Yellow could hear his voice come from her right, so she painfully turned her head, and her right ear kissed the leaves: so she was on the ground, then. . .

"How'd you know?"

"Well, I'm gonna break into a story, so don't interrupt because I'm in a hurry."

"Have you found Green yet?"

Her voice was shaking, she knew, and a part of her died just asking it. Red's alive — that's great. She'll have to figure out how Bill knew that later. . . Green, however, is another story.

"Ah, sadly, no," Bill murmured, more to himself than to Yellow, and she whimpered helplessly on the ground. "And I thought I told you to not interrupt."

"Right, yeah." Nothing else would be done, after all, sadly enough. She heard Bill crouch down beside her.

"He's out of Mirage Island, apparently —"

"_Green_?"

"Yes — and —"

"So where the bloody hell am I?"

"Still in Mirage Island. Now, as I was saying, remember the patterns on both Red and Green's shoulders-?"

"Green had one too —"

"I take it you remember," finished Bill irritably: his tone alone made Yellow tremble. Was he always like this? She didn't like to remind herself that Bill was, in fact, a teacher at Crescens Academy. This vacation had to be the weirdest one ever. . . Maybe she'll not interrupt . . . ? "Well — Professor Oak —"

That one name made Yellow's insides lurch and her blood boil.

"— told me several years ago that Red and Green would need protection — so then he discovered that the effects of keeping the Red and Blue Jewel in your body is . . . contagious."

"Contagious?"

What the fuck? Yellow's head started to go numb, and she was starting to see colourful lights — it must be in her eyes or something. . .

"Yes, contagious."

"How so?"

She thought their 'pleasant' little conversation was getting in Bill's way to hunt down Green, wherever the hell he landed himself into. Time was ticking, and yet she didn't know how they'll squeeze this into their timetables. That reminded her: where was the disaster?

"Look, Bill," Yellow began hesitantly, thinking that her questions would be answered another time, "aren't we kinda wasting —"

"Nope, not at all — contagious, in the sense that if someone touched the pattern on the Possessor of the Jewel, they'll be able to know what the Possessor is doing, and feels what the Possessor feels — it's like a connection. . ."

"S-so," Yellow said, her voice trembling, "have you ever t-touched Red's shoulder —"

"Yeah."

That explains how he knew Red was all right. But does he have the same powers as Red? No, Yellow didn't dare to think so. . .

"Um, Bill, where in Mirage Island are we right now?"

"Oh, right — Mirage Island somehow managed to get back safely in the time zone of Hoenn — and I probably shouldn't tell you this, but we're _stuck_ hovering above Sky Pillar —"

A shrill, inhumane noise echoed in the area. Yellow's eyes widened.

"Ah, yes. That was Rayquaza. I think."

"G-get the hell off me, man!" Yellow pushed Bill with all her might and forced her frail body to stand up, though she went limp and fell — she could only hazard a guess Bill caught her with his arms.

"You need to slow down!" he cooed, worried. "You lost a lot of blood —"

"What happened to me?" she asked, trembling in his arms. Somehow, Bill was the only person she could turn to right now. . . But the reassuring feeling Red always gave her was questionable: Bill didn't illuminate the same aura around him, so how could Red? Maybe she just felt . . . safer . . . with Red. For a second, Yellow thought she was going to nod off again, but Bill slapped her cheeks awake.

"Ow — ow — that hurt!"

"You've gotta wake up!" Bill exclaimed. "You wanna know what happened to you? Fine. I'll tell you. . ."

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME:**_** This seemed . . . rushed. Oh well =( Thanks for reading! I just wanna let you guys know I'm a bit off with my writing skills because my head HURTS like the apocalypse, and I only have a few hours to spare. Stupid Dial-up connection. . . Okay, I hoped this cleared your sinuses a bit! The next chapter's gonna make a LOT more sense, I'm sure =) **_

**YELLOW: **_**BARTY HAD A SISTER? O.o**_

**ME: **_**Yep, yep, yep! Surprised myself, too XD Actually, he only has one sibling, and it wasn't a brother, but a sister: so, yeah, Barty's sister pretended to be a boy. Seem familiar? ^^ Stay tuned! I hate this chapter TT_TT It makes absolutely no sense. . . Right when it's supposed to T_T**_


	34. Fleeing

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**Look, everyone, I'm really sorry that my being lazy is disturbing this story, but it's not you: it's me. **_

**YELLOW: **_**That didn't . . . come out quite right.**_

**ME: **_**Ugh, the last chapter was the —**_

**GOLD: **_**Shittiest? Most screwed-up? **_

**ME: **_**Whichever TT_TT I'll apologise again. I'm making absolutely no sense as an author and a friend.**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

**Author Gal 285**_**: I love you! (GLOMPS YOU) And not in the creeper type of love. Thanks for reviewing! I see you like Vocaloid! They're just so . . . so . . . EPIC! XD I wish I'd meet my mirror image =_= Rin's lucky. If you'd like a Banana Split, I have it in my fridge! **_

** XXXDreamingFlowerXXX: **_**Popopipopipo! Hiya! XD Mind if I ask what an Otaku is? O.o I see that word a LOT in the Internet. I'd like you to have my other Banana Split XD**_

** SplitHeart1120: **_**No, because that's just awkward o.O Have a Mango Smoothie, or any, if you like :D**_

**Insanity CatXD**_**: Gotta love Bill :p Thanks for reading! Have a nice Cookies and Cream cake! XD Yep, even though you reviewed for the last 4 chapters, I'm still replying 'cause that's how beast I am XD Just kidding.**_

**ME: **_**Hick yeah! Now that that's done. . .**_

**GOLD: **_**My turn! (SNATCHES MY LAPTOP) (OPENS GOOGLE CHROME)**_

**ME: **_**IDIOT! (SNATCHES MY LAPTOP BACK) I can't let my mum see my computer with porn! Specifically, those uncivilised prostitutes!**_

**GOLD: **_**Hey! It takes a lotta genius work to hack into those sites!**_

**YELLOW: **_**Pfft, GENIUS WORK?**_

**GOLD: **_**Shut up. **_

**YELLOW: **_**I think Nicole-chan's right! You're being mean.**_

**GOLD: **_**Mean's just how fun life gives personalities to people like me ^^**_

**ME: **_**ENOUGH! I'll just block your sites. . . I'm sorry ONCE again for the language. I don't know what to think of it XP I read a LOT of Vocaloid fanfics with languages . . . a little 'harsher' than this. Again, if it's unpleasant to hear in your mind's ear while reading, I guess you guys will have to endure it XD LANGUAGE WARNING: SEVERE. **_

**YELLOW: **_**How much more chapters till this is over, Nicole-chan? -.- No offence, though.**_

**ME: **_**None taken, at the most. Hmm. . . NEXT CHAPTER! Hahahahahahaha! Kidding! Actually, I dunno. I'll still have to make a stupid Epilogue, though =,= Anyway, just about 5 more chapters and this'll be over, and I'LL GET BACK TO WRITING ONESHOTS! AND THIS TIME, VOCALOID ONESHOTS (INSERT EVIL LAUGH BECAUSE THE AUTHORESS IS SO AWESOME SHE CAN'T TYPE THAT MUCH) Hey, by the way, the line breaks mean the switches of Point of Views, m'kay? Oh, and this story is rated M because of the Action, the idea of the 'raping girls' thing, and the Language. Sorry, you Specialshipping Fans: no lemons =( Not even a citrus. Though, I've to admit, there's a slight Polishipping.**_

**YELLOW: **_**Nicole-chan, you DETEST yaoi! And you're homophobic!**_

**ME: **_**I don't necessarily HATE homos. . . It's just that I have a certain . . . fear of being one. And slight Polishipping is all for good humour. Even if it isn't funny T_T I don't like yaoi or yuri pairings, so don't get me started. Oh, and there's an APPEARANCE of Pokespe characters~! Just watch for them! And, again, I'm so sorry for bringing up the 'STRAIGHT' line. Just goes to show I'm almost homophobic. . . NO FLAMING, PLEASE!**_

**DISCLAIMER**

_**I OWN NOTHING BUT MY OC's,**_

_**BARTY, HIS SISTER, AND FECKER**_

**33R****D ****CHAPTER: FLEEING**

**LOG TWENTIETH**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY — MIRAGE ISLAND — COORDINATES: UNDEFINED**

**9:02 AM; SAME DAY — MT PYRE**

**R**ed hit Gold in the face.

"What the hell was that for?" Gold demanded, wiping saliva from his chin squarely. Red shook his sleeves down calmly.

"You can't just yell at Grandma," he said coolly. Red caught Gold muttering something at the corner of his eye yet he didn't do anything because he was a gentleman. Yes, Red is a gentleman.

"Barty told me it was his brother!" yelled Gold sorely, clenching his fists. Uncle Wilton scoffed and popped a stick to his mouth — Red stared and wondered silently where he got that — and closed his eyes slowly. "When've you _ever_ trusted that creeper?"

Gold made an annoyed noise that sounded close to a grunt and "tchk!"

"Still," said the old man, rubbing his chin, turning to Red, who raised his eyebrow. "I don't understand how the young girl managed to get hold of the Jewel that controls Rayquaza."

The atmosphere darkened.

"She — she must've had it all along," said Gold, whose tone wasn't at all convincing — in fact, he didn't even sound convinced himself when he said it. Uncle Wilton looked at Gold incredulously.

"You're kidding! And besides," Uncle Wilton pointed at Red — who, for some reason, had been tired of being pointed at the entire time, "What makes you think Yellow has it?"

"Gee, I _dunno_, it's not like Yellow can switch her moods accordingly or she isn't eating healthy —"

"Holy tits, Uncle Wilton. . ." said Gold, quivering. Red was pissed: what _now_? "You got her _pregnant_!"

"Wha — HELL NO! It's _not_ what you goddamn think!" Red said, a little too quickly: he wanted to clear his name out of anything that'll ruin it — his face was showing all kinds of red, ironically enough, and that screwed the truth up. Gold's parent — or guardian — family member — Red didn't know who the hell that guy was — stood up and bawled his fists.

"I don't know whether or not Gold's paedobear instincts kicked in, but I just want to know the truth — DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT SCREW MY NIECE?"

_Gold is such a fucking bastard._

* * *

><p>Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuckity-FUCK.<p>

"Did you just swear?"

Yellow had _no_ time to deal with Bill right now. Yet, she didn't know Bill could read her thoughts —

or, she could have voiced out her thoughts by accident. So . . . Bill doesn't actually read minds.

In fact, Yellow could literally make up her own jingle of swears. . . And Bill can't hear because he can't read minds. . . She'll make a less harsh version of it. . .

Damnity-damnity damn

The crap just hit the fan

The fan turned left

The shit followed it

Damnity-damnity damn

"Yellow, what was _that_?"

"You can read _minds_?" Yellow exclaimed, shocked — her earlier theory might have been right. She just guessed Bill shook his head — because it was so dark she can't see — and heard someone slap someone's forehead. Bill must've face palmed.

"No, you just _sang_ that horrible jingle _out loud_."

Oh.

That explains it. Bill sighed and threw his head back, by the sound of it.

"I suppose I should tell you right now," said Bill. Yellow's left eye twitched: she'd been stalling all the while, because she was afraid of what Bill might tell her. In fact, she didn't want to know. "Red and I've known this for quite some time right now."

"_Red_?"

The very solid fact that Red knew something Yellow didn't was completely unbelievable — well, beyond Yellow's knowledge and understanding, she was just as clueless as the bloke.

Yellow gave a slight wince, and this didn't go unnoticed by Bill, though.

"It hurts?"

"I'm — _fine_, I'm not fine. . ." It might've been best to tell Bill the truth: she hurt like hell, and she felt her ankle scream in pain silently.

"You did yourself a bit more damage than I thought," Bill muttered thoughtfully.

"What do you mean —"

"If you'd just let me _explain_, then you'll know." Bill was becoming more and more impatient — Yellow, like the angel she is, didn't bother to ask more questions even though a million keep popping up. Hearing nothing from Yellow, Bill continued, "It seems like you're the only one who still doesn't know — Green's suspicious, Red had already arrived with an answer. . . You yourself don't know.

"Lemme start from the beginning — when I found you in the —"

"Underground pool thing," Yellow said, nodding — then she remembered it was so dark maybe even Bill won't see that action, so she added a small "yeah."

"Yes, that, my senses were tingling — Red was lucky he visited me, though — he'd never have found you until much later. The thing is, I . . . well, _sensed_ you: I felt your heat signature — much like I can feel Red's and Green's. . ."

Yellow was afraid of where this was leading her.

"The entire time, Red was observing you — you were often drifting to Lalaland, you don't eat much, you had your own mood swings. . ."

Then Bill let out a laugh — Yellow flinched: was he going mad, perhaps? Her hand groped for something sharp in the ground. . . But only leaves were present.

"I could remember Red thinking you were having _PMS_ —"

"_What_?"

"Yeah, he was being such an ass about it — he kept babbling about Mirage Island not having napkins. . ."

Yellow felt her anger rise — but not for Bill, but for the young boy who fell off Mirage Island. She almost hoped he died. In fact, she wasn't as mad as this since she found out her old pet Growlithe got hit by a truck.

_Red is such a fucking bastard._

* * *

><p>Somehow, a few minutes after, Red had managed to convince the lot he didn't screw Yellow in an 'orderly' manner, without making stupid 'misunderstandings.' Though through his out-of-the-topic explanations, Gold merely grunted and crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. Red was smart enough to believe Gold would be too stubborn to be convinced of him, but he was satisfied Gold would know enough to believe <em>some<em> of it.

Red seemed to be pleased with himself when he saw the outcome of his explanation to clarify 'in full detail' without leaving 'a single truth' uncovered . . . until Uncle Wilton repeated the question as though he couldn't understand a fucking word Red said a few seconds before.

"_Let's get back to the frigging topic, shall we_?"

"Fine, whatever," Gold mumbled, still annoyed: this bloke was stupid as hell — and it irritated him more than Red could string more words together than he himself can. There were only two things Red would like to clarify to Gold in the middle of the conversation about Yellow and her 'purity.'

_One_, Yellow was wearing her hat at the time, so it would be impossible for Red to have known she was a girl, and, of course, Red was _straight_. And _yes_, Gold was straight, _too_. That'd be, like, gross.

_Two_, if Gold was caught saying "holy tits" by Red again, he'd guess he's going to meet Yellow's ol' pet Growlithe in the flipside.

_Three_, do not mess with the Red. Ever.

"You were asking me 'how on earth did you know Yellow possessed the Jewel' — assuming it was a Jewel — 'in the first place?'" Red said, the last part mimicking Gold in a prissy voice, stroking his imaginary beard. Gold was pissed.

"That's a sad imitation of my voice! What are you, a sick grandma?"

Gold: 1 Red: 0

Red immediately shot Gold a glare.

"Really? I thought I did it _right_."

Gold: 1 Red: 1

Gold pulled the corners of his lips with his fingers and stuck out his tongue — what a pathetic technique. What? Oh _yuck_, his tongue's all swelling and red. . .

"Can we _please_ hurry?"

They turned to look for the source of the meek voice and found that it could be none other than Daisy's. She was right: they were wasting time.

"Right — gotta get to your question. She was experiencing the same symptoms Green and I had — the mood swings, the occasionally different personality — the whole crap — I had to test to prove that." Red was talking in the fastest way possible. "So Bill and I — Bill's my Custodian — he kinda touched the pattern on my shoulder so now we're 'connected,' like he knows when I'm in trouble — so we went to his room and killed the lights — Yellow still doesn't really know she possesses the Jewel because Green's eyes and mine glow in the dark when we're aware —"

"Ah!"

They turned to look at the old man, who clutched his heart in a sickly manner. Everyone was quiet — his wife patted him on the back and massaged him a bit before cooing in his ear, "What's wrong, Honey?"

"You, boy!"

He had addressed to Red and Red alone: he merely looked petrified, as though he did something wrong.

"How does one become a 'Custodian?'"

Red blinked. It was more like an interrogation, not a question at all. Truthfully, he didn't really know _how_ one becomes a Custodian. . . But he'll try his best to describe it with all he knew.

"Well, Professor Oak told us that becoming the Possessors of the Jewels is going to be very perilous: some psycho might come and look for the power, then he found out that when you touch the pattern on our shoulders. . ." Red pulled down his sleeve, revealing the said pattern: through the opaque blood, it was still clear, glowing a faint red. "You'll sorta become 'connected' with the one who currently possesses the Orb."

"No matter the distance?" asked the old man in a soft, hoarse whisper. As much as Red knew the old man already knew the answer, he still voiced it, since the others were still listening. The old man was on to something, Red guessed. . . He was asking too much to not suspect anything.

"Yes. No matter the distance."

The old man was silent for quite some time, his wife holding him steady as he trembled backwards. The silence only subtracted twenty less seconds out of Red's life living. His heart was making an idiot out of himself due to the suspense. Oddly enough, he almost felt the others' heartbeats in sync with his (with the old couple's and Uncle Wilton's a tad slower than the younger ones'. . .)

He frantically turned to Daisy, whose eyes were on him with such fear and anxiety it was as if she were a Pichu cornered by a Persian in a dead pit. She knew this was coming.

"Your brother — does he or doesn't he possess the Blue Jewel?"

"Green Oak," Gold breathed — Red watched his reaction from the corner of his eye.

Daisy seemed as though she couldn't find her voice, so she meekly nodded with her mouth gaping slightly.

"Red, young boy. . ."

Red immediately looked back at the old man, having not been registered by his name for such a while he even forgot. Somehow, he already knew that this old man would ask once again about Green.

"Green . . . doesn't have a Custodian, does he?"

Red's mouth was so dry he didn't want to answer. In fact, he was afraid that the old man would be disgusted, but Red sucked it up and said, dryly,

"No."

* * *

><p>"So Red and yourself think that I possess the Green Jewel?" gasped Yellow, taken back. Sure, that'd be excellent, and not to mention totally <em>epic<em>, but the risks are too high. Bill nodded his head slowly, then lightning struck — Yellow turned to the sky, but she only found Bill standing up with his hand gesturing ahead in the momentary light. She could see it lead to the beach.

And that's when it came: a shadow — it stood so tall, the shadow literally covered the entire island — they were once again engulfed in darkness. . . Yellow gasped — her heart was beating crazy, and she collapsed on her knees —

"Yellow!"

She felt Bill kneel to her side, but she raised a hand so that he won't come near — everything inside her was erupting — she felt like something inside her was clawing her intestines —

"A-ah," she managed to choke out, feeling her fingers prickle: she can't feel anymore. . . She hugged her sides, hoping she won't topple over — hey, she had a question for herself. . .

_If Red and Green had —_

There was a distant cry of a loud creature, and Yellow felt her heart explode — she couldn't hear anything right now —

_-if they could have super-fast reflexes and can read minds —_

Her jaws hit the ground, and she was rolling around the leaves — she couldn't bear the pain —

_-what did she. . . ?_

* * *

><p>"Yellow!"<p>

Bill was scared shitless — his only hope had been rolling on the ground like a psycho — and there was this pokémon that was flying over the island —

It was long, green, and menacing — its cry had nearly made Bill deaf: he cuffed his palms in his ears and tried to shout some sense into Yellow.

"Yellow! Yellow! You're reacting to Rayquaza!" Bill shouted: oh no. . . Even he can't hear himself — the long green pokémon flew above them, and Bill saw the sky: it was foggy, but he already knew where they were —

They were hovering above Sky Pillar. . . And this was bad —

"Can't . . . take it."

Yellow's voice was husky and scarily dead — she must have been clawing herself senseless and couldn't go back to reality.

"No! Yellow! You've got to stop!"

You've got to. . .

Then, suddenly, the island shook — and it was momentarily out of balance —

And there was an earthquake coming.

Bill hastily went over to Yellow and pulled her to him, holding tight to a tree —

Ample Plains was having an earthquake magnitude of 9.3 —

And all hell broke loose.

Bill's eyes widened in surprise as the earth beneath him cracked — Yellow dug herself in his chest, weeping — her eyes were glowing emerald-green, and that's not always a good sign. . . The earth was giving way, and then, something much, much worse happened —

A _claw_ broke out of the centre of the island, and Bill could see it from the forest — the earth shook once more, and Bill was too scared to move.

_Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit, SHIT!_

Oh God. . .

* * *

><p>Red made an involuntary movement — he threw himself on the ground, writhing. Gold, the old couple, Daisy, and Uncle Wilton made to get to Red.<p>

"Red, kid, what's wrong?" Uncle Wilton bellowed, shocked as he leaned down his knees. Red's back was hunched, and it looked like his spine was about to get ripped out from his own flesh: a sight Gold was _repulsed_ to imagine alone, and he didn't want any of _that_ crap happening.

"Oh dear," breathed the old lady — she crouched down beside her husband. "He seems to be very anxious, doesn't he?"

"Anxious?" Daisy said, trembling at the sight before her, "This is far from anxious!"

"What'll we do?"

Honestly, that was the lamest thing to say at the moment, but Gold maintained his pride. He's got good looks to cover for every one of his mista — this isn't the fucking time to think about Gold's sexiness!

"We can't do anything!" Uncle Wilton cried, horrified as Red's nails dug deep in the ground — screw logic! Gold came over and brought his arms around the older boy, thinking — _I'm straight, I'm straight, I'm straight, GOD, I HATE YAOI _— and shouted, "_Snap outta it, Red!_"

He thumped Red in the back — like a _man _— and Red literally _bit _into Gold's flesh: his arm bled and Gold had to push the bloke away from him.

"The SHIT, man! That hurt like _bitch_!" Gold exclaimed, tending to his own wound — Red scuffed and, his bangs over his eyes, _licked_ the blood dripping from his mouth: Gold could've sworn he saw Red's fang stick out, and he retreated a few steps backward, his eyes bulged in fear.

"What's wrong with him?" Uncle Wilton walked over and protectively helped Gold, who was wincing silently in pain, walk: they were all afraid of Red, who, even as the dorky idiot as he seemed, held all their answers.

Uncle Wilton's grip on Gold's arm suddenly tightened from a light grasp to a painful squeezing — his blood literally spilled all over his favourite jacket.

"Agh, fuck, Uncle Wilton!" Gold's wound had just gotten _worse_ and now it hurts like hell.

"Gold — don't you remember what Barty said?"

"I don't give a shit anymore," Gold said, seething — he was practically not mad at no one this moment, and he couldn't care any less.

"He possesses the Red Jewel, so he must be reacting to a presence of one of the trio —"

"Oh my God."

They looked at Daisy — she was close to tears, and she had her hands covering her mouth: shaking, hopeless, and probably in a state of anxiety, she opened her mouth and said, through her fingers, something enough to be considered audible, but not loud enough to be distinguished.

"What?"

They all leaned closer — in the background Red was shaking like a nutter and was biting himself unconscious again, though was given no particular attention — and listened to what Daisy was saying.

". . . awake" was all Gold had ever caught in Daisy's soft mumbling between her fingers.

"Spill it," Uncle Wilton urged, and Daisy said loudly,

"."

It was like a clock's cogs sprung from the inside, and everything hurt — Gold felt like his mind erupted, and his vision was blinded by colourful clouds. What else could go wrong?

Red's scuffing and growling in the background probably made Uncle Wilton nervous — Gold would definitely _know _— because he snatched a pokéball from his belt and threw it in the air.

"Remoraid, use _Water Gun_!"

The ball twirled: the small button glowed a faint red, and it opened — a red beam of light escaped the ball and formed an aquatic craniate vertebrate shape: slowly, the red beam twisted when the features had turned sharper, and it broke into millions of particles and made a _pop_ sound — fins grew and a tail flapped in the air — the vertebrate's head retracted and, its mouth agape, showed its sharp, 2-inch long teeth.

The creature in mid-air jotted a stream of water issuing from its own mouth and it splashed on the nearly deranged boy rolling around in the ground, scratching himself.

Red immediately got back to his senses: wet and on the ground, his newly opened wounds bled in a severe manner.

"Jesus, Red, can't you control yourself?" Uncle Wilton asked, annoyed. He walked over to where his pokéball laid, muddy, passing by the shocked and open-mouthed couple and Daisy, and then pressed the capsule's button, his arm outstretched, aiming at the creature doing a few backflips on the ground, looking angered. The red beam of light streamed through the button and engulfed the fish, and its features were now surrounded by too much, it was retreated back into the ball.

Red panted, his mouth slightly gaping — Gold flinched at the sight of blood trickling down the corner of the youth's mouth, yet Red did not give a damn about that. He was _wet_. Sopping, even — his clothes were hanging, sticking to his skin because of the water splashed at him. He rubbed his temples and shifted in his position on the ground, grunting again.

"What are we to do now?" asked the frail old lady, watching Red. "The Three Ancients have now awakened, and are at the same location!"

Gold didn't like to admit it, but he had no idea. He couldn't think — no stupid puns intended, or Gold's wrath would be unleashed — and was sure that if he heard one more detail — a _serious _one — he was going to collapse into a breakdown. He needed time to think of a crazy, awesome plan to get his cousin back from that hell.

"We — we have to get Ce-Celebi. . ."

Gold and Uncle Wilton stared at each other — they exchanged looks and realised it was Red who was speaking: he was serious about finding Celebi.

Red looked the other way, annoyed at the attention: he was turning more and more irritated by the minute.

"Celebi's the only pokémon that could end this. . ." he breathed out, panting slowly. "I've been trying to find it along with Green. . ."

"What are you leading us on to, Red . . . ?" said Uncle Wilton slowly, raising his thick eyebrows and looking over his way. Red's head snapped upward, and he said distantly, "Mum's the word."

Something inside Gold snapped.

"What — I thought you were here to HELP us?" he bellowed so loud, that the old couple cupped their ears with their hands. He took a few steps forward and stopped when he was just in front of Red, who was staring up at him on the ground, lifeless. "I bet you don't even give a fuck, do you? And what about my cousin? Wherever the hell she is, she's still gonna end up dead — if you won't help us, that is!"

Gold, feeling his jubilation rise when Red's eyes widened, continued rather hotly, "You may be one fucked up dude, but I'm not. I'm gonna go help my cousin — I bet she's nothing more than a _whore_ to you, is that it?"

"Gold!"

Gold ignored his Uncle from behind and went on, spitting out his words like venom. Red's eyes were slits in horror. Gold could care less: he was going all out on what he bottled in for so long these past few minutes, and he doesn't give a damn who he'll end up hurting with his words.

"You don't even _care_ about her — you're so sexist —"

(Says the one who was a sexist, too, but Gold didn't want anyone to say that.)

"— you just think of her as some bitch who walks by that doesn't even deserve a second glance!"

"Shut up. . ."

"HELL NO!" Gold was beside himself with anger — the hell with logic! "Then come help us if you're useful, to prove you're not just some other asshole!"

Red muttered something inaudible indicated to himself, and Gold had had it.

"Just stand the hell up, you —"

"Shut. Up." Red stood, glowering down at Gold, who still kept his cool, angered face, but deep inside, he felt a huge wave of panic wash over him: he truly didn't think he'd do what he told.

"Just shut the fuck up, you little —" — Red said something so insulting even Gold's eyes widened — you have to admit, he was one hell of a big swearer — "— I'd like to clarify some things with you. One: I'm not allowed to talk about the Celebi business with anyone except Bill or Green even if I wanted to!"

"So?"

Gold knew he was being stupid, and that arguing was pointless — he believed Red with all his being, but he was too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

No, wait. Red may be right, but Gold isn't wrong: Gold's just . . . not correct.

As if that made sense.

"_So_, two, Yellow means a lot to me!" Red blurted, then he caught himself a little too quickly, however he didn't show any signs of evidence. Gold and Uncle Wilton and Daisy and the old couple — basically, the entire lot — stared. Red was feeling shame wash over him, but he didn't regret what he said: it was half-true, wasn't it? But . . . why was he feeling this way?

His heart was beating so hard — and he felt his face heating up. What the hell? Red had never — _ever_ — felt this way before. Just then, a sudden, unexpected image of the young blond-haired beauty appeared in his mind's eye, smiling at him — had Red been an ice cream, he'd melted right then. He wasn't sure of this feeling, but he knew, somewhere in his heart, that this was right. He could already feel her hair flowing through his fingers, and he could smell the faint scent of Oran berries: Red could just tell Yellow lived near a forest.

"W-what?" Red stuttered, realising that everyone was staring at him with their mouths agape the entire while. What was wrong?

"Th-the. . ."

Gold pointed above Red's head — he turned to where he was pointing at and nearly passed out.

It was emitting a faint, greenish glow — its small, fragile figure made it look like a helpless, defenceless creature, but it was as though it was more than it seemed: its paws were held aloft like a ballerina's, and its — probably — huge compound eyes were closed, and, around Red, everything was moving: it took Red a while to process that this majestic, elusive pokémon was the one that slipped from his and Green's grasp all the time — it never approached them — yet, here it was, above him, floating. . .

_Celebi. . ._

Gold didn't realise he breathed out the name of the pokémon until he repeated the words he said for the last few minutes — seconds — he didn't know anymore, nor had he counted in the first place — he just noticed that the creature enclosed them in a huge orb — it snapped shut behind Daisy, whom Gold didn't notice until she winced — and they were floating away in a fast speed, controlled by the small pokémon alone —

Gold watched, hopeless, as the figures of the old couple extending their hands to them, running to keep up, minimise and zoom out far away.

"Where are we g-going?" Daisy asked at the front of the container that was enclosed with them in it, pressing her hand against the glass-like wall.

"From what I can gather. . ." The voice was Uncle Wilton's, and Gold turned to the man who was massaging his chin. "I think . . . Sky Pillar's Island. . ."

* * *

><p>"<em>Everyone, attention. . .<em>"

"Just shut that stupid thing up!"

"I — I can't!"

"Let's just leave that damn thing behind, then!"

"We have to escape!"

"No shit, Sherlock."

A raven-haired boy shoved the device at his blonde friend, who, by the second he'd received the gadget, shouted in indignance.

"Retard!" the blonde exclaimed loudly — he flipped his hair and scratched the back of his head irritatingly. He wanted to crush the stinking radio with his bare hands, but they were kind of in a hurry.

His partner adjusted his scarf nervously in the dark — a sudden flash of lightning —

"Waaah!"

"Geroff me, you twit!"

"B-but Pearl, it's so scary," his friend said, trembling. The blonde rolled his eyes. Then, he felt a strong gust of wind blow by.

Pearl turned to the only light in the blackness of the night: the pokémon said to have lived in Mirage Island burned down the entire town — everybody evacuated. . . Except for the only ones who've been left behind.

That included this strange pair.

"_Everybody must evacuate the island immediately _—"

Pearl groaned. He had a short temper, so he slammed the radio to the ground, where it was repeating the recorded message,

"_. . . try . . . live . . . every man . . . for himself . . ._"

Then the blonde crushed it with his foot, and, when it was _zz-_ing, he kicked it.

"Where are we supposed to live now?" his dark-haired friend asked, biting his scarf.

"Anywhere but _here_," Pearl scoffed, and he strutted to the beach, where there was no water greeting them, but cold wind and roars of dragon-like creatures. He stopped when he was a foot from the edge of the island, and gulped when he realised how high he was going to jump.

Pearl felt someone tap his shoulder and, even though he already knew who it was — being the only companion he had at the moment — he looked over his shoulder and found his childhood friend smiling warmly at him.

"Pearl . . . it's gonna be okay."

"Sh-shut up," Pearl said, embarrassed. He sniffed, looking down at the view that greeted him. His friend's hand never left his shoulder.

"I'm gonna miss this island, too."

"Who's gonna miss this goddamn hellhole?" Pearl snapped, but softly: there were precious memories that rested in this island.

And even though they were rough, it was still nice.

"I know what you mean," his friend said, sighing. He removed his hand, and inhaled a fresh amount of air. "We're probably gonna meet her again, though, right, Pearl?"

Pearl felt heat rise up his cheeks and pushed the sudden image from his mind — which reacted at the word 'her' — and, flustered, punched his friend on the shoulder.

"Shut up."

"It's been, what, five years —"

"Dia," Pearl said, feeling his vein popping. "If you don't want to die either by the destruction of Mirage island or by _me_, we should just drop Missy as the subject."

"Y-you're right," Dia agreed, blushing: Missy was a sore topic between them. Then, he looked at the edge of the island, "Sure is high, right?"

"I've got Chahiko."

Dia wanted to have a say about flying with a bird no bigger than a Torchic, but shut his trap and nodded furiously.

"On three, okay?"

"Yup."

Bill watched as the two best friends jumped off the edge of the island hand in hand — no, Bill was sure they were _straight _— and looked down at his hopeless companion, whose head was lolling side to side.

"Come on, Yellow, wake up!"

He slapped her bloody cheeks, but Bill still couldn't get her to wake up.

He felt the footsteps of the approaching pokémon — it was an earthquake: he held on tight to the tree and wished he could evacuate as well, but right now, Yellow was still unconscious.

A loud shriek echoed in the sky — Bill instinctively ducked — and a strong gust of wind blew by, followed by a sonic boom —

Rayquaza seemed to have been flying low for a while now.

Everybody except _them_ evacuated the island: he could still find the smoke issuing from the now broken radio that the young blonde boy kicked round, making worthless announcements, which was now currently broadcasting a short talk about cooking Beef.

"I wish anyone'd get here now," Bill said, hopeless.

* * *

><p>"I'm finally creating a better world for you, Cecilia. . ."<p>

The waves crashed on the shore finally — the beach looked as though it had been dry for quite some time now. Of course, this was Mirage Island: Bartemius wouldn't have expected anything less. . .

He felt the sea monster's heartbeat — he was sitting on the monster, squatting. He was already here. . . In the island that his dearly beloved sacrificed a life for.

Kyogre let out an ear-piercing roar that didn't bother its master.

Barty opened his eyes — they were of the icy blue colour, and his pupils were swirling like a whirlpool.

"_Green, would you care to do some damage_?" he hissed, letting his tongue slide in every word.

Only one word was needed in reply — Green's voice travelled through Barty's mind,

_Yes_.

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME:**_** I know the stupid jingle was STUPID. (And in case you haven't figured it out yet, Cecilia's Barty's sister, all right? ;) )**_

**GOLD: **_**I made it up XD**_

**ME: **_**Be quiet, it wasn't nice to type such language.**_

**YELLOW: **_**Technically, though, YOU wrote it.**_

**ME: **_**It was so out of character of YOU, Yellow! DX Besides, GOLD thought of that one!**_

**RED: (BITES OUT OF A SANDWHICH LIKE THE CLUELESS GUY HE IS) **_**Hmm. . . So if Gold, who is 'technically' being written here as a side-character in the Author's Notes by none other than Nicole-chan herself, including me, was the one who wrote it and made Yellow 'technically' sing it in the story. . . Isn't Nicole-chan 'technically' the one who made up that jingle D=**_

**EVERYONE: . . . **

**GOLD: **_**Let's say Red made it up.**_

**ME: **_**Anyway, I skipped Bill's explanation on how he and Red figured out about Yellow with the Jade Jewel — OBVIOUSLY, ALL OF YOU ALREADY FIGURED IT OUT CHAPTERS AGO. But I guess you're wondering how Yellow GOT the Jewel in the first place! Heck yeah! Imma explaining it next chapter, so, toodles!**_

**YELLOW: **_**But, everyone, the ending won't be as likable as you'd think. . .**_

**ME: **_**Oh, who am I kidding, you guys'll hate the ending ;_; Oh, DUDES, getting a HAIRCUT and having your BRACES removed makes you look a DIFFERENT PERSON. What next? Flipping contact lenses?**_


	35. Repercussion

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**ME: **_**The story's gonna end in the next TWO CHAPTERS, IT'S BEEN DECIDED :)**_

**GOLD: **_**LOLwut?**_

**ME: **_**Heck yeah! I'm finally gonna start writing Vocaloid One-shots . Plus, you're gonna read an overly exaggerated past of an old man's this chapter, you readers, and Reviews are very much welcome, because Anonymous feedbacks are ALLOWED, yes.**_

**YELLOW: **_**B-bu — but — !**_

**GOLD: **_**'Butt' outta other people's business!**_

**YELLOW:**_** What about Pokémon, Nicole-chan? O.o**_

**ME: **_**I honestly don't know anymore =( I guess . . . I lack inspiration. Oh, wait, right -,- Imma still gonna write about Commonershipping, though, since it's just too adorable to resist .**_

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS**

_** Mt401: Oh, awesome! Seems like you took an interest in my story! XD It's because the awesome power of the Blue Jewel still resides in him. And because if women stay in Mirage Island, they'll rat out the secret of the unknown civilisation there that Professor Oak created. Er, nope, 'cause that's not gonna be in the story, sadly =_= The ending's gonna be in next chapter, so stay tuned! Thanks for reviewing, here's your Mighty LEEK DISH! O I'm sorry if it tastes — cough — rancid — cough — I've been trying to find a good dish.**_

_** XXXDreamingFlowerXXX: LOL Popipo! Dude, Otakus rule (VICTORY SIGN!) I started playing Kingdom Hearts, too! XD Here, it's a leek dish =_= I'm sorry if it's . . . hideous. . .**_

_** SplitHeart1120: The Jewels can corrupt the mind, mind you o_O Thanks for reviewing, and I'm sorry if the leek tastes . . . weird o_O**_

_** AuthorGal: Nope, it's not exactly a tragic ending =_= It's more of a twist, and an alternate ending. You'll see more of that later. Thanks for reviewing, here's a leek dish!**_

_**InsanityCatXD: Gotta love 'em, right? XD Thanks for reviewing, though! Leek dishes for everyone!**_

**ME: **_**I gotta start the story now. Oh yeah, here's a teaser for my upcoming Vocaloid story, to those who care, anyway:**_

"Hello? This is Hatsune Miku you're bitching at. What? I _still_ don't _give a fuck_ even if you say you're the president of the United States. I'm Japanese. Call me when you've grown some balls — and when you do, the next time you'll see me you're gonna be losing them. Oh yeah, I _so_ went there."

"Who was that?"

"Some random guy who's not man enough to beat _the Miku_."

"Umm, Miku, he's a guy calling from across the street."

"Like I care."

"I can see _smoke _from here, you know."

"Rin, I'm trying to enjoy my doughnut."

"It's leek-flavoured. And you're a police! The street behind this is ours! It must be one of our neighbours!"

"When I get outta my office, I'm just a simple girl enjoying her life. Besides, I knew it was our neighbour."

"How?"

"I — erm — _told_ Kaito to eradicate that idiot from my sight."

"More like seduced him. . ."

"Hey, it's not every day you find a twenty-year-old guy with the innocence of a three-year-old who, as a matter of fact, is obsessed with ice cream."

"Miku, he practically _worships_ them. I pity your taste for men."

"At least he tastes _sweet_, unlike your brother."

"What's my brother got anything to do with —"

"He tastes a bit _spicy_, no?"

"Don't drag Len into the subject, woman."

"Someone's got a fetish~!"

**ME: **_**That's about it, really . Thanks for caring to read! I'm gonna post it as soon as I'm finished with Mirage Island Vacation, okay! Oh yeah, there's an IMPLIED Barty-Barty's sister fetish here, mainly because I read TOO MUCH twincest, if you know what I mean (NUDGE, NUDGE, WINK, WINK) It's disgusting, when I thought about it at first. Then again, twincest is wincest for the Kagamines, right?**_

**DISCLAIMER**

_**I OWN NOTHING BUT MY OC's,**_

_**BARTY, HIS SISTER, AND FECKER**_

**34****th ****CHAPTER: REPERCUSSIONS**

**LOG TWENTY-FIRST**

**SAME TIME; SAME DAY ****—**** MIRAGE ISLAND ****—**** COORDINATES: ERROR ****—**** ERROR ****—**** ERROR ****—**** ZZZZ ****—**

**9:48 AM; ON THE MOVE — SOUTH HOENN SEA**

"_**G**__reen! Green~"_

_Groan._

"_Greeeeeeen~"_

"_Daaaaiiisyeeeee. . ."_

"_Whaaaat?"_

"_Tell mwee a stawry. . . I'm bwoooreed as much as you are."_

"_You want me to tell you a story?"_

_He felt himself nod in a vigorous manner almost automatically. He pounded his fists on the old, greying carpet. But somewhere a bit further off, he felt his head throb. Why was he feeling so . . . light?_

I haven't felt like this in years. . .

"_Er, I dunno, Green. . ."_

That voice sounded a bit nostalgic. . .

Like from a memory. . .

_His once calloused hands were now baby butt-soft and small, and he didn't even realise he was planning on scratching his face until he felt newly-cut nails scratch the surface of his cheek._

_The surroundings were oddly familiar, though, as if in a distant dream. . . The room looked very old: had he been able to smell in this void, he would've passed out. There was only one furniture in the room, not counting the table with three legs that wobbled standing, and that was this large and old bookshelf._

_The person in front of him was no doubt a woman — rather, a girl. He wasn't sure why he suddenly thought this person was a girl, and he knew it wasn't because of her high-pitched voice. It seemed like . . . intuition._

_He couldn't move his eyes to see her face, no matter how much he wanted to: instead, his eyes were only glued to the floor._

_Curiosity and anxiousness built up inside him._

"_Juss make one uuuuuuup!"_

_He hadn't noticed his voice was slightly higher than usual until now, and there was a hint of childishness in his tone. No, wait — he was definitely younger. . ._

_That didn't sound right._

_So . . . where was he?_

"_You know I can't, Green," the girl snapped — but from his view, all he could make of her was her pair of legs. Must that mean he was smaller?_

_He felt his hand yank up, and he was surprised to find out that he himself did it. For a second there, he didn't think he was going to speak up, either: he pointed at the bookshelf, "Eyoo can fuwaynd a book there!"_

_Oddly enough, he _felt_ the girl grow sceptical._

"_I dunno. Does Barty seem the type to keep story books?"_

"_Everybody wuvs books!"_

So naïve. . .

"_Hmm. . ." The girl's hand massaged her chin, from what he could see in his little view. "You wanna know something about Barty?"_

That name. . .

"_What about Barty, Sis?"_

_Somehow, he knew she was scratching her chin again. Then an idea happened to cross her mind._

"_You won't tell anyone, right?"_

_He thought for a moment — wait, why was he giving in to this? Unbeknownst to him, a "hmm" escaped his lips._

"_Gimme most of your candy and this nuwevar happened," he said. That seemed a fair enough deal for her, anyway._

"_All right — prepare for the worst, Green. . ."_

Green. . .

Green. . .

"Green!"

Dark cumulonimbus clouds were forming an eye in the sky, and the cold wind was starting to blow by — however, the ground was still portentously dry: in fact, _anyone_ in their sane mind would clarify that even the drops that begun to fall from the clouds were sizzling when it reached the ground.

Mirage Island wasn't like this before: the lush paradise that was inhabited by both people and pokémon had turned into hell — in physical appearance. As for the inner, it already was hell to begin with, anyway.

It seemed as though lava itself was seeping from the ground: the grass was now dried up, the trees were uprooted by the wet storm, and the earth of Mirage Island itself was cracked in all places.

Somewhere in the island, the city was falling apart: the earthquake was too tremendous to have anything survived, and the debris was everywhere — some had even reached the plains, with the help of the howling wind, of course. You couldn't count the number of times the ground has trembled within the past few minutes: there was something big on this island, and it's definitely terrifying.

The creature must've come from the earth of Mirage Island _itself_, because it can't possibly be there unnoticed, not for the past decade, at least. And it was moving blindly: meaning that it would destroy everything in its path, even the people left behind, searching for answers. It was lost in time — confused, of course: it doesn't know what century it's in, and is obviously on a rampage for the only thing it lives for.

Its counterpart.

"Ack!"

The soles of Bill's shoes were beginning to scorch in the ground, and he thought he couldn't carry the young girl anymore: it was just his luck that no one gave him any pokémon, so he was out of options, really. Right now, he was trying to balance the blond girl while dancing on tiptoe, stripping his necktie off.

To his surprise, when the tie came in contact to the ground, there was some sort of hissing noise — and smoke rose from his burning necktie, and, soon enough, it was being devoured by fire.

He was going to randomly stomp his foot to kill the fire, but then the rain was starting to pour: before he could lift his foot, a drop of rain fell from the sky and killed it before it finished burning his cravat. But that drop was almost instantly vaporised by the hellish ground, which had been once a forest floor before it dried up.

"I'm going insane." Bill had often read books about phenomenon such as this, even _expected_ something like this would happen to him in Mirage Island, but never at the exact day before _this_.

Right now, though, he was marvelling at the sight before him: as though things weren't going to get any worse, too. . .

Mirage Island was definitely not in the banished space it used to be, nor above the towering Sky Pillar: a great wall of water had started to spin a whirlpool — no, wait, a tornado of water — and there was a silhouette of a shadow of _something_ inside it: it looked huge, and it seemed to be the root of the water tornado.

"That must be Kyogre, then," Bill found himself whispering: But one thing's for sure, according to the blood pumping ferociously in his veins, _Green_ was there — Green Oak. He'd know. . . He'd understand. . .

Yellow stirred in her sleep, muttering something about cookies.

Drawing his breath, Bill came to a few conclusions. . .

He was the only one possibly left in Mirage Island, not counting _Yellow_.

Yellow tired herself into the point of exhaustion, and has now fainted in the process.

She's gone _mad_: Absolutely insane. So even if she will wake up, it's just going to make things worse for Bill.

The only one with the sane mind in this reality must've been Bill himself right now — so unless he does something, he's screwed.

He was thinking about this when something clicked — like, literally clicked. Bill tilted his head a bit, wondering where that noise came from, until he found the source: it was on Yellow's belt.

Curious, and in the verge of an idea, Bill straightened Yellow's position by grabbing her shoulders and rummaged through the bag, sticking out his tongue a bit: surely the girl won't mind. . .

At last, the thing he was hoping he was looking for — Bill _is_ a bitching genius — was found, and Bill marvelled at the sight: a pokéball.

His thumb rubbed against the smooth metal surface of the object, and all he could do was formulate a plan whilst half of his brain began to process the last time he held up a pokéball like this.

_I could use this to get to Kyogre. . ._

_Possessing pokémon is illegal for teachers in Mirage Island. . . So I only get to hold a pokéball with a pokémon inside when it's involved in the lesson. . ._

Then Bill's eyes travelled to Yellow's face, who was drowsing peacefully in his arms. He pondered for a moment, and brushed the hair off her face, tucking some behind her ear.

"Don't worry, Yellow. . ." Bill said to her, smiling. "I'll be right back."

* * *

><p>"What?"<p>

Gold stared at his uncle in disbelief, the words ringing inside his head, repeating a million times louder and more emphasised.

"W-we can't — what?"

"Sky Pillar's island?" Red repeated at the diameter of the container that made it possible for them to float above water. "That's it, right? I'm not hearing things?"

The boy furiously inserted his finger in his ear and looked at Uncle Wilton like a curious child.

"The island Southeast of Hoenn?"

Daisy, however, was crouched in the corner, hugging her legs and pressing her forehead against the glass-like container. Gold couldn't believe that, after all the weeks they'd been in that island — all of this happened in just _one_ night. Hell, just eight hours. This realisation caused his ankle to sting a lot more and he grunted, grinding his teeth.

He's one masochist, eh?

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's it," Gold said, frowning: he just saw the clouds grow grey, and that the entire background turned very dark. They must be getting closer.

From beneath them, the waves were crashing against each other, and, had the force of the orb not been strong, they'd probably be swept away.

"We're stopping Barty," Daisy breathed, her voice hitched: Of course, it must've come as quite a shock for her, knowing she'd stayed with the old geezer for a while a few years ago.

Gold was still upset she didn't accept him.

Though, that's not a reason for him to stop.

"Heya, Daisy," he said, walking over to her with his hands in his pockets. The girl didn't stir: However, she did look up — she was wearing a rather odd expression, and that made Gold's heart sink. Cheering this girl up would be one job to do.

Red, from the corner, opened his mouth to say something, but Uncle Wilton motioned for him to keep quiet and ignore the two.

"I'm really all set to kill Barty!" Gold cried, trying to strike up a conversation. He even did a lot of goofy gestures, and he was pretty sure Daisy was listening to him — _in the inside_. "I'll blast him with my famous and awesome trolling ICE BEAAAAAM!"

He laughed at his exclamation, and then proceeded to talk more about his plans on how to eradicate Barty.

"— his ass's gonna be all jacked up with Ataro's attacks, he's gonna have a lotta trouble! Oh yeah, and I might save some for Yellow — you know, my cousin — 'cause she's gonna be all HELL when she'll get her hands on the dude, and he'll go all, 'JESUS CHRIST!' and when it's my turn, I'm gonna torture him and make him cry until he says, 'I'm being kicked in the balls by the awesome, charming, motherfucking, brilliant, excellent, clever, bright, cool, sexy, hot, rapeable, cute, chivalrous —"

Gold bit his tongue when he stumbled for more words.

"Oh fuck — wait just a moment — I'll start again — the awesome — oh for the love of Arceus, I'll just frigging stop now — Barty's gonna regret the stuff he did, all right!"

"How . . . does it feel when you lose a family member?"

Gold stopped talking when he heard that — it wasn't the soft, delicate voice of Daisy — on the contrary, it belonged to a bass boy, and when Gold turned in his seat, he was surprised it was Red who asked, looking monotonous. His eyes betrayed what he was feeling inside, and it didn't seem Red was trying to hold it in. He seemed like the type of bloke who gave his heart out to others and isn't afraid to cry.

That sounded so gay.

This time, Daisy looked: hey. . .

She won't look when _Gold_ was babbling to her.

Daisy blinked owlishly.

"You . . . you've never—"

"Never."

The silence stretched a thousand miles. This was getting seriously awkward. Red didn't seem to be upset much, though — it seemed like he didn't care about not having any parents. Which Gold found strange: Red truly was the type of guy to break down and cry — in a guy way — and would get mad at everything.

But, right now, he seemed to want answers. Not answers for something sceptical or anything —

Just a mere question of an innocent boy. Who had no parents. . . And lived in Mirage Island.

Gold felt a wave of sympathy wash over him for the first time in a long while: Red really was solitary, and Yellow must've been nice to him.

Yellow must've been Red's number one priority for the entire while. Even now: she's like the only thing he's got left to care about.

"W-well. . ." Daisy seemed at a loss for words. Red's lips parted, and he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry for asking: I shouldn't have —"

"Curiosity is not a sin, Kid."

Uncle Wilton spoke for the first time in a while, and to Gold, it seemed as though his voice seemed foreign. What with the weight of saving Hoenn from a psychotic ass who still thinks his dead sister's still alive, there's going to be a _lot_ of things in some hormonal guy's mind.

Just then, Gold bit back a chuckle: He just realised that Uncle Wilton was using lines of Albus Dumbledore.

Red looked at Uncle Wilton, taking in every detail of this man's features.

"What does that mean?"

"It takes time for a heart to heal," said Uncle Wilton, sighing heavily. Oh shit.

Here comes the _speech_.

Gold covered his ears and paid attention to the floor, but it just made Uncle Wilton's voice sound all muffled.

". . . love . . . time . . . never go back . . . lesson to be learned . . ."

He's going all crappy about _love_ again. It's not as though he's experienced it before.

". . . starts like ember. . . hot to the touch. . . burns . . . young love . . . hot fire. . ."

At the corner of Gold's eye, it seemed as though Red was giving his full and undivided attention to his uncle, and the sight itself disgusted the fourteen-year old crouching at the floor.

"So — when will I know?" Red asked, his eyes widened. Uncle Wilton nodded his head at Red and frowned.

"You'll know."

Right now, Gold felt like dying. Screw death by the ultimate war of the century, with Uncle Wilton, it's hell already.

* * *

><p>Shit, he grabbed the wrong ball. Bill gritted his teeth as he threw the pokéball to the ground, smashing its hinges into shattering pieces: he thought for a second, and then remembered something.<p>

It was as though the shattering of the particles had been a show in slow motion, and Bill had a sudden flashback in his mind —

"_Who are you?"_

"_I'm your new Jesus!"_

He was aggravated by that: why had that happened?

The pokémon in front of him flinched, letting out a growl and baring its sharp teeth. Bill waved a hand, irritated, and seized handfuls of his hair, wanting to shout at the world.

He'd tried so hard to forget about the past. . .

He blocked all the unpleasant memories, but they just _keep_ _coming back_, if not with much more flashes.

Bill felt something tug at this pants, and he was about to swear menacingly until he turned around, raising his foot half in mid-air, scowling, and found the yellow furball.

It looked adorable, but it was definitely a _menace_. He'd thought that snatching a pokéball from Yellow, he'd get one that was _huge_ and powerful, and can literally _swim _— there was a huge chance that one of Yellow's pokémon would be a Water-Type, or at least a Normal-Type, or a Rhydon that could learn how to _Surf_.

But NOOOOOOOO, he gets a fucking rat. A _rat_.

"A rat," he finished, pacing back and forth: Every step he took, the soles of his shoes were scorching above the crazy hot surface of the ground.

"Great — brilliant —"

The water crashed against the dry shore, and instantly evaporated upon contact.

Now _how_ was he supposed to stop that huge wave of water? Which, by the way, had a pokémon controlling in the eye of the water tornado: that was the best Bill could hypothesise, and the only thing that made him think that an ally was there was that tingling sensation he had in his fingers.

He smiled like a masochist as his heart began to beat a thousand miles away — the sounds he could intercept were the swishing of his heart, and any other noise was blocked from his hearing organs. The blood rushed to the tips of his fingers and discoloured every part of his body except there into a stark pale.

He was going to die right here, right now: he could only get a distance away from the Possessors of the Jewels in the shortest amount of time. He could've died battling, but he just had to choose to be a Custodian and let the two boys donate their blood, which had been unclean from the power of the Jewels running through it, and he gets to die _in_ the middle of the battle.

Fuck his life.

Just then, when Bill was in the verge of collapsing, he felt one hell of a _shock_ electrocute its way through his body, and he jerked awake, his teeth jittering.

"The hell!"

He turned to the only possible thing that would attack him and the electric furball just looked up at him, agitated.

Bill didn't give a fuck.

"Look," he said gently, trying to control his vein from erupting. He knelt down to twice the size of the rat, "Unless you learn how to fly or swim or _actually do something useful_, I suggest you go back to your master."

Bill pointed at the cloudy horizon. He'd gone a long way from where Yellow was right now, and he was just about to give up when this . . . _thing_ suddenly attacked him.

Not. Cool.

The pokémon didn't stir.

"Just get the hell outta here!"

He was in for another shock. Like, literally. After he made a shooing gesture, the pokémon's eyebrows scrunched downward and let out a tiny little growl before its tail erected to a high point and let out a hundred volts — gotta love that little furball — nearly frying Bill. As if the sizzling ground weren't enough.

"FUUUUUUUUU —"

**A while later**

"Okay, what'd'you want me to do?"

Bill rolled up his sleeves so that they reached above his elbow, revealing scorch marks that were visible in the pale skin. Talking to a pokémon was logical . . . and completely sane.

It never occurred to Bill that there wasn't a single sane thing that happened to him that was actually explainable since, well, _ever_.

So here he sat, cleaning his dirtied face full of internal scars thanks to the little fucker next to him.

The Pikachu bit its lip, and it scampered to the water.

"What?"

Listening to a pokémon was both insane and it'll lead you to absolutely _nowhere_.

He rubbed his temples with his fingers and sighed heavily. Now what was he going to do?

Bill found himself staring at the ground, and realised that, even though the Pikachu occupied the space, the ground was _soft_.

Curious, Bill reached out his hand carefully — the second his fingertips touched the ground, he withdrew his hand in reflex and grabbed his own wrist, wincing: the ground packed a lot of electricity.

Did it mean something?

Bill heard a sort of electric wave being resonated, loud through the waves evaporating on the ground, and looked at the direction it was coming from.

It was Pikachu's battle cry, and its expression changed to a sort of bubbly, friendly one: Bill gasped when he found out that the pokémon was standing — _floating — _on the water: no, not a single drop seemed to have soaked the fur of the pokémon.

This may be illogical. Yes, it was insane. But, for now, it was war.

Screw logic.

* * *

><p>A little far from the place where Bill had just hopped on the electric board that Pikachu made with static current, the water was beginning to slowly rise: each wave crashed against the shoreline from afar, but there was actually a water current below the surface: and it lead straight to the water tornado.<p>

The group of tornados advanced, and a huge flipper was in sight: it seemed like a silhouette in the water, but it was undoubtedly of a big creature's.

The water dispersed once it reached shore, which was sizzling with lava underground. It's funny how Mirage Island had lava inside it all along.

Or maybe. . .

The winds were among the forces that were allies of the Water Army, and once in a while debris from burning buildings had come and go, sometimes in the direction of the moving water tornados, and sinking into the water.

The rain had poured down so much, it was very impossible to imagine that a single island wasn't affected of this ruining weather. Indeed, not a single raindrop touched the ground without evaporating to vapour. One part of the island was surrounded by heavy rain and the other wasn't: but they were all very dry.

There was another thing left in their arsenal, though, and it lied inside the group of tornados itself. From afar, however, the water tornados seemed to be one, not a group of many, and its eye had something inside.

The one controlling the burden and creator of water itself.

Green Oak wasn't a very tolerable boy at all when it comes to not having his way. _His_ ways made much more sense than that of others, so it was only common sense to follow him around and agreeing to all of his ideas like a sick Growlithe puppy.

So where did things go wrong from there?

He sometimes heard voices whispering to him — the owners of those voices made their last gasps of breath, and the Jewel inside him witnessed them.

The Jewels were passed down to history, seeking Possessors to kill — the power it held was in calibre of the power it controlled. Sometimes, it was too powerful to control: thus, it's claimed a lot of lives. Some fools had even died not having witness its full potential, and had went as far as touching the Jewel. It was death by stupid.

But how did a kid like him manage to still be alive after all that? How did he control himself, forcing the Jewel inside him, at the age of seven, at the least? He had many questions wanted answered, and Green believed he only had one way to get them.

Right now, though, the whispers inside his head worsened to the point of him going insane, and he soon lost control of his own body.

Like a _puppet_.

A puppet with a soul — a soul that's trapped in its own thoughts, that's what he was. He was helpless, hopeless, and, worst of all, he didn't even know it.

He was immersed in his memories.

It's ironic how the mind that could penetrate others' locked the sanity inside.

Green's hair was damp with his own blood, and his shirt was ripped: it was a shame, though, had he been fully awake then, he would've minded about it terribly. It was his favourite. His eyes couldn't be seen through the shadows his hair cast, but one from a distance could be absolutely certain his pupils were emitting a dim, blue light.

His lips didn't show any emotion that he'd not felt in the inside, really — his mind was flashing photographic images of what happened previously: beyond how far he can take his mind to. He was too far gone to control his own body — yet he served as a very loyal puppet.

He loved how the water would follow his fingers, he thought absentmindedly: he flicked his fingers and the force that made one of the water tornados shifted: one tower dispersed and changed to a huge wave, heading for shore; he made water rise up again to replace the now-gone tower's place.

Slowly, Green's shoes appeared out of the water, and it didn't seem as though he was being moved by the water anymore: there was a scaly blue surface he was standing on, and it shone through the rain.

Green was standing on Kyogre, the thing that was controlling the waves.

Now he can do whatever he pleased with this power.

* * *

><p>"<em>Arty! Arty!"<em>

Barty took a deep breath, trying to imagine the strong gust that swept by was the fresh wind that he inhaled a story ago — his once wet toga that dried up from the cold depression was now flapping in the wind, making it a whole lot colder than it already had been for his thin bony legs. A normal person can't think properly in this disposition.

Barty never was normal: His imagination stretched wide.

"_Arty!"_

"_What, Ces?"_

"_Look what I made!"_

Maybe if he closed his eyes, the scaly green skin he was kneeling on will be more based on his sensations so that it'll feel more like he was standing on a lush, green meadow.

And _she_ would appear.

_He was on a hilltop, barefoot, and was feeling the cool breeze. His feet felt nice on the grass, nicer than what it used to feel like when it was sand._

_The sky that stretched across the green and blue horizon mash was cloudless, and it completely showed no chance of ruining the day. It's always a nice weather in the middle of the afternoon, after he had lunch._

_He had no doubts, however, it was always like this, because he'd always seen the weather through the glass windows, so today's special — he'd rarely been able to get out, because he was weak and frail. It was practically a curse._

_He'd managed to slip from his servants' grasps, today, though. He ran out of the house after claiming he was going to be at the garden and earning the servants' trusts, never looking back and regretting of the lie._

_He'd always lied, though. But this was one he didn't regret._

_And it was blissful._

_He used to lie to get out of demanding parents: It was always 'Are you happy?' and 'You're sad, aren't you?' In the end, he had to grit his teeth for the filthy deceit. He had tried to put on his best face and pull the lie._

Barty was never used to conveying his feelings inside physically.

_He was always bored and depressed at the mansion. They never let him out, because he _can't do it_. What if he could, then? It's not like it was any different. He was only pale, sure, a little weak in the bones and short, but it's not like he was going to collapse like a fragile thing any time, right?_

_Those adults . . . had forgotten how to understand._

_Where were they when he was in bored out of his mind in his study room?_

Barty clenched his fists: His long fingernails dug _real_ deep in his palm, and blood oozed out.

But he didn't care.

_Whenever he wasn't at the library, he was always at his room, asleep, bored . . . dying._

_His parents had arranged a doctor for him personally._

"_Will he be okay?" his mother had sobbed._

"_There's a chance he won't."_

_Chance . . ._

Barty scoffed at the memory.

_There wasn't a chance at all, why couldn't he just say it?_

Because sometimes, the sweetest lies are preferred over the most painful of truths.

It's because humans always looked for comfort and what the only _want _to see.

_He could've stood it. He didn't want anybody to cry over him._

_But that doctor just had to twist the words, didn't he?_

"_How long will he have?" It had been his father who asked._

_The doctor had paused. "A few years."_

_He was absolutely certain that he was going to die at any moment, so he rushed out of the mansion this hour, for this event had occurred only yesterday._

_He wanted to truly _live _before he dies._

_In the distance, through the bellowing wind, he heard someone call out his name. _

_It was a high-pitched voice he could recognise anywhere, and something he could bring to his grave. Her sweet voice; It was kind, and he will treasure this sound forever._

"_Arty!"_

Barty blinked: His world turned upside down when Rayquaza launched an attack against a large obstacle in front of them, and the turbulence knocked Barty to reality.

Whatever the huge green creature hit, it must've been hard, because the pokémon can't stop roaring. Barty covered one of his ears from the piercing noise, and slammed his free palm on Rayquaza's scaly back; on contact, a green force erupted from its skin — for lack of a better word — and it dispersed in the cold air, sending fading emerald-green particles everywhere.

Immediately, Rayquaza mellowed down a bit, but its eyes emitted a glow that was a ferocious green.

Barty didn't think it would lead to this; from a frail child's story of melancholy, to a legendary hermit's legend to power.

He shook his head to concentrate: He was getting more delusional by the power right now. He shouldn't let his guard down. Whatever Rayquaza hit, it mustn't have been something inanimate. In fact, Barty could feel a surge of power that made the hairs on his neck stand on end: It wasn't a power he was used to. No, it was very different from Rayquaza's.

Then it must be. . .

* * *

><p>Yellow's eyes snapped open at the sound of a loud, deafening roar.<p>

Her head was spinning, and she couldn't make out anything around her. They were slowly sharpening to distinguishable shapes, however, her head hasn't ever had a worse feeling before.

She could feel her numb hand run through her hips, and it was then she realised that it was fairly very warm on the ground. When the shapes around her finally sharpened, and when her head began calculating the recent stuff that's happened, the temperature grew hotter until it scorched the back of her neck.

Here, insert loud wince from blondie.

Yellow immediately sat bolt upright, rubbing the back of her neck furiously, gritting her teeth: ah, it was scorching hot!

"W-what happened?"

The last thing she knew, she was screaming her heart out to Red, who _fell off a cliff_, and Bill revived her. . . Then she fainted again. What, blacked out? That's hardly the Yellow she was before she came to this island.

A _mad place_.

"Bill. . ."

She didn't think she was still conscious when Bill told her to wait — she was just immobile, though. What did he mean by that, though? Dammit, all the problems get piled up again. . .

Something inside Yellow moved.

Wait, what?

Yellow blinked, feeling her heart beat fast: When did that happen? As she moved her hand up to her chest to feel her heart beating like ballistic, almost by exploding, her brain pulled her down to a breakdown, and she felt like she was lost once again.

"_Uncle Wilton?"_

_She stood in the doorstep of her uncle's house, dripping wet, whether it was the rain or her tears or both, she didn't know, but all she did know was that all the red blotches in her shirt were blood._

_Blood from the very pool of her _parents_._

_Her small, fragile hands wrapped themselves around her arms: She was shivering, and it wasn't just from the cold, but obviously from the frightful experience. She still hadn't gotten over what happened._

Who ever will, when you watched someone you love die in front of you?

_It had only happened hours ago, yet the scene was still vivid inside her mind's eye._

_And it was carved in as a memory. _

_She could remember a scream, a gunshot, and the sound of blood being spilt on the floor._

_And it was the worst memory in her life._

_Silently, she felt her tears cascade down her cheeks again. And her legs slid down on the cold cement floor, and she landed on the ground with a small thud that was barely even heard._

_She had knocked on the door several times now, and it's been a while since she's ever heard a noise inside the house that sounded as though the man inside were to open the door. She hadn't heard it since. Maybe the man just nodded off again, thinking she was one of those nuisances that passed by a person's house just to prank him._

_Maybe he just didn't care._

_The man grunted, rubbing his eyes lazily, grumbling something about the crazy assholes. . . They woke him up three nights straight making fun of him, and this was the fourth fucking time. It's making him go crazy._

_His slippers made a kind of sweeping sound as he walked — or slumped, for that matter — to his door. He slowly turned the knob and it clicked._

"_Look, you son of a bitch, I don't give two shits what —"_

_Uncle Wilton's sentence had been cut off when he noticed that the non-existent boy was actually a girl, with hair that literally fell to the floor — he'd guessed that she never let her parents cut it — and with a small, frail figure._

_But what he noticed the most was the blood stains on her._

_And this wasn't exactly the last time Uncle Wilton swore in front of a cute little girl._

"_OH FUCK!"_

* * *

><p>"We're here."<p>

Gold's voice was filled with a serious tone no one had ever heard him use before. And he was practically shaking with determination to beat the shit out of the old ass.

"Ah!" Daisy exclaimed, lifting one foot in the air. A sizzling noise came from the ground, and Red's eyes widened.

"It's happened!" he said, his voice hitched. He was breathing shallowly right now, and he clutched his chest with his hand. Everybody had their eyes on the youth right now.

"I — I can't believe it!"

He looked around the surroundings: everything was horrible: The once lush and green Mirage Island had now turned into a desert-like terrain, and the palm trees that once inhabited the place were now burnt to a crisp, and the friendly sky that had once greeted him happily was now grey and cloudy, with the visible signs of tornado approaching. Despite that it was raining really heavily at the other side of the island, Red saw the apparent shower from his view, and it looked very out of place, the ground sizzled, evaporating the wet hydrogen on contact. If Red squinted, he could see that there was a huge _fire_ at the centre of the island.

This had to be stopped.

Once and for all.

"It's made it out of the core of Mirage Island!" Red shouted, hysterical. "Bill was right!"

Gold felt something inside his heart squeeze when he saw Daisy blush — really, he wasn't an idiot. At the mention of this guy's name, she turned away to hide her apparent blush. Well, this was just another girl, right?

There was always Chris and her bust, Gold thought perversely.

"Who's Bi — never mind." Uncle Wilton dismissed the thought immediately, seeing as the situation had been more important. "What do you want us to do, kid?"

Red thought for a moment: He didn't really think about this. He literally didn't think they'd come as far as this.

They'll definitely die, so what's the use?

_Save Mirage Island and Hoenn._

That's the plan. A life for a life, and they were going to give away theirs for a land that didn't greet them when they had their first breath, a land whose people wouldn't be grateful of them for this, because they _didn't know_. . .

But even if that's the case, he'd still give his life for them.

Just to show the world he can handle it. He'd be declared as a hero dying, and nobody would acknowledge it.

Maybe in the future, in another life. . . Time was precious, though, he needed to get his plan straight.

Red took a deep breath and said, "The three legends have probably awoken right now. . . So our objective is to exterminate the source that's controlling them."

Red blinked back tears, grinding his teeth.

He half-glanced at Daisy, who was peering over at him curiously.

_I'm sorry._

"We have to kill this Barty. . ."

Red gulped, taking in his guilt.

_Sometimes doing the right thing won't make you happy._

"And, I know you still haven't met yet, but. . ."

_There must be another way._

". . . there must be a way to not kill Green and save the world . . . right?"

* * *

><p>Barty was standing on Rayquaza's head, gripping on its ears for dear life as the said pokémon fired another attack at the Ground-Type.<p>

The wind was howling, and the sky was disoriented with clouds and sunlight — the rain had poured on him endlessly, despite Rayquaza's ability, _Cloud Nine_, which was able to exterminate all weather effects. Barty can't already count the number of times they'd almost been hit by the lightning.

Whoever said the line about 'less likely to be struck by lightning' is an ass.

But whatever he's doing was for _her_, who'd given her life for him when nobody bothered with him.

"_Arty!"_

_The blonde's eyes widened at his name, and the person who cried it. The grass rustled when he turned his heel to look round, but he was pushed to the ground by a heavy object._

_Or person._

_He laughed; the girl on his back seemed to be giggling as well, her arms still around his neck playfully. The wind seemed to be laughing along with them, seeing as the breeze turned to their direction._

_The grass was a bit sharp, but nonetheless, he thought it was normal, for the others' standards. He didn't get out much, obviously, so everything's new to him._

_Besides, he didn't want to see her frown._

"_Told you this was gorgeous!"_

_He laughed at the girl's statement. "Sure is."_

_The girl climbed off his back and laid on the grass with him, panting._

_They stayed like this for a while, until,_

"_I wish I could do something about your sickness. . ."_

_The boy blinked, his cerulean eyes reflecting the sky. His heart had melted: Of course, he just had to be sick. It's not like he was going to do anything about it right now, though._

_He knew his life was going to end sooner or later._

_He didn't want her to worry._

_The girl faced him, her hair bouncing: She sat up in a position that wouldn't be called proper at all, but it was amusing to him all the same._

_He couldn't help but reach out to her and caress her soft cheeks._

"_I won't always be there for you, Ces," he said, his voice sounding the same with what he felt inside for the first time. The girl's eyes brimmed with tears._

_He hated it whenever she cried._

_More so when it was for him. _

"_But it's not fair!" she pouted, clutching the hem of her dress. His face fell. "You're not supposed to die! I won't let you!"_

"_I'll always be with you!" he cried, hugging her. "Trust me, Ces, it's gonna be all right!"_

"_N-no it's n-not!" she sobbed. "And I'm not c-crying!"_

_She hiccupped, and he couldn't hold back a laugh._

"_I didn't say you did!"_

_They laughed together until her tears stopped running. She sniffled and blew her nose on his shirt — he didn't mind so long as it was her — and said, her voice muffled, "I'm gonna find a way to help you. . . No matter what."_

_He highly doubted that. His eyes softened when he pulled her out of their embrace._

"_I don't want you to die for me. . ."_

_. . . Sister. _

_I wanted to stop time then and there._

_But time was precious, like a diamond._

_But like a diamond, it can be the strongest element you have. And like a diamond, you want more of it._

_The time has come, but you don't want it._

_Time is the longest distance between places._

_Time is an illusion._

_Yesterday's but today's memory but tomorrow is today's dream. . ._

He was the reason she _died_.

**AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE**

**ME: MUWAHAHAHA! CLIFFIE! **_**Dude, I epically fail at Action . **_

**YELLOW: **_**No matter, Nicole-chan! Next chapter's the ending!**_

**ME: **_**True, true. But AFTER WHAT'S BEEN TWO EFFING YEARS, EVERYBODY!**_

**GOLD: **_**Whoa, HOW LONG? O_o**_

**ME: **_**You heard me right! October in 2010! I started the first chapter TT_TT And on October the 18**__**th**__**, I had 18 chapters, everybody!**_

**(CUE APPLAUSE)**

**YELLOW: **_**And the story's finally ending! Q_Q**_

**ME: **_**Maybe I'll be a better author and become well-known if I write Vocaloid one-shots! O.o Dude, my longshot ideas are, well, longshot when it comes to being famous.**_

**GOLD: **_**More like a misfire.**_

**ME: **_**Quiet, Gold! D: Anyway, as I was saying before I was RUDELY INTERRUPTED, I'm looking for nice, melon-y ideas! :D**_

**YELLOW: **_**Melons are kinda Nicole-chan's obsession now. Trust me, she drinks melon milk EVERY DAY, and uses a melon-scented perfume.**_


	36. ClichebutobviouslyneededAuthor 'sNote

**STORY ON HIATUS:**

**We deeply apologise for the inconvenience. Please note that**

**this story won't be updating for a long time at the most and the Author**

**wishes to convey his/her gratitude for you sticking to this story and**

**wants to express his/her apologies again. Thank you for reading.**

**Author's Note:**

**Hi guys, I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while yet. This is so embarrassing o_O**

**I just came to post a 'HIATUS' note because I've lately been lacking inspiration**

**to continue Mirage Island Vacation T_T I'm not sure if I might continue it at all, actually**

**I'm really sorry for this, this must be a sort of turn-off, right?**

**I'm REALLY, REALLY sorry. Again. **

**I'm just gonna continue writing other stories for a while, and find that inspiration D:**

**I'll continue writing my Vocaloid, though, The Mistress, but this story's still on Hiatus.**


	37. Ifyouwanttothenhelptheauthorti elooseend...

**Hello, readers!**

**No, this isn't the last chapter you had probably already given up on D: I'm sorry if anyone who used to like this story had their hopes crushed by me, but the wait is over!**

**I'm already 2000 words on the last chapter, and I've already got a stupid, crazy plot going on!**

**You're most likely thinking, "Took you long enough" or "This is such a waste of my time."**

**I nailed you, didn't I? XD The only thing that's stopping me now is the loose ends that need to be tied. So . . . I need your help, guys D:**

**If you wanna know what a loose end is, then I already looked it up, and I'll post its meaning HERE to save your time:**

A minor unresolved problem or difficulty, especially a final detail preceding the completion of something. Often used in the plural.

a detail that is left unsettled, unexplained, or incomplete

_Source: The free dictionary . com_

**Got that? : ) I apologise for the long wait. As soon as I finish Rin's Fanfiction I'll get to this right away QwQ SOMEONE had inspired me to keep moving and work on this.**

**You know who that awesome person is? You know who lifted my spirits up?**

**I'll dedicate the entire story to . . .**

**You.**

**Yeah, you! You readers are what kept me go on! : D**

**Maybe I'm asking too much from you. Maybe I'm not. I just want to end this story as fast as I can with the best possible ending with the best possible plot with the best solution to all the problems : (**

**I hope you understand. . . And I am only asking you to cooperate.**

**All I want you to do is to give me the stuff that's been complicating you in the story, and the mysteries that I still haven't solved. So**

**please?**

**: (**

**I know what you're thinking, "God, it's your own darn problem!" or "I gave up on this months ago!" or even "This is too much work. I'll see how this author can get through this." Heck, maybe you'll just sit back and let the other readers give me ideas.**

**Every opinion counts, actually. . .**

**You don't necessarily have to do something to help me; constructive criticism is gladly appreciated, in a PM or review (it increases the review count, so what the heck.) If you have any side-bits or if you're cliff-hung by some parts of the story, let me know so I can fix it in the end of the chapter : ) That's all I ask.**

**So, BYE! : D**

**School's over, and summer's just begun, so Imma write a lot now : 9**


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